


Stiles Genim Argent

by Miss_Webb



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Dreams, Caring Derek, Chris doesn't want Stiles or Allison to be hunters, Except for Allison and Chris, Fluff, Foster homes suck, Gerard is a good grandpa, Hurt!Stiles, JK- Argents are bad people, M/M, Other, Panic Attacks, Sheriff Stilinski is a Bad Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sterek endgame, Stiles Stilinski is an Argent, The Argents are kind of good people, The Hale Fire, alpha!Derek, conflicted stiles, nervous ticks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8371693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Webb/pseuds/Miss_Webb
Summary: After Stiles' mother died, the Sheriff was really never around, for many reason's. Stiles being left alone to deal with grief and pain didn't bode well for he mental health. Eventually social services take him, and a year later, he is adopted by the Argents. He lives happily with them. But what happens when he finds out they are hunters? What happens when he is put in front of a certain werewolf alpha and has to decide where his loyalties lie. With the family that raised him. Or a wolf with amazingly green eyes that he can't seem to get out of his head?





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I intend to make all the chapters this long, so it will be a while between updates. Sorry :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story is Unbeta'd and all chapters will be edited. Thank you for dealing with typos and grammatical errors. 
> 
> If anyone wants to take pity on me, and take a chance at beta-ing my works, feel free to shoot me a message on my tumblr. 
> 
> http://orchidpeach560.tumblr.com/
> 
> It's rather new, and i plan on uploading all my works on there after editing and for backing up purposes. :)

Stiles’ mother had just died. He had just gotten home from the funeral. His tears didn’t have a chance to dry, there as always more to replace them. He didn’t even understand death one-hundred percent, all he knew was that his mother was buried in the ground and the only time he was ever going to see her again was in pictures.

She was never going to tuck him into bed again. She was never going to kiss his forehead again. She was never going to cut the crust off his bread and leave it on the side of his plate for him to eat separately again. She was never going to brush his hair again. She was never going to sneak him a candy bar if he promised to be good for a few hours in public. She was never going to sing to him again. He was never going to talk to him again.

That made everything hurt. His chest, his face, his hands, his feet. It was like someone took a pair of scissors and cut out pieces of him. The house seemed so much emptier without her. It felt colder, and darker. Because she wouldn’t ever plug in his night light again, she would never grab him that extra blanket again. She would never hug him again.

That made him cry, and she couldn’t comfort him, she couldn’t get him to stop crying, because she was gone. Forever. She was dead, and she was never ever coming back, and Stiles didn’t know how to deal with that. So the tears kept coming, he would scream and yell at everything. The air, the walls, pillows, the floor. He couldn’t do anything but that. He was drowning in his own tears and snot, and no one was home to help him wipe them away.  

No one was ever home anymore.

Not his mom.

Not his dad.

The Sheriff was always at work. That and the bar. That was his way of grieving. Drinking. Stiles was too young to know if that was a problem. He couldn’t count the number of beers his dad brought home. Because he wasn’t sure when his dad was home. Stiles eventually stopped going to school.

He didn’t know how to get himself ready. Not after all the crying. Not after all the bad dreams. Not after those moments he couldn’t breathe, where he couldn’t do anything but feel that sinking feeling, as if he was being pulled into a black void.

There were moments of clarity where Stiles would get up, give himself a bath, and make a PB&J. But I never tasted the same. Something about it was wrong, and eating felt bad. Everything felt like that. The water in the bath never felt warm enough. His skin never felt clean enough. His blankets were never tucked enough. His nightlight never bright enough.

It eventually got to the point where Stiles lived on his bathroom floor. He would just lay there for hours. Because that was the last place his mom was in his home. She fell on the floor, right where Stiles was laying now. Stiles was in the bath when it happened. He screamed and screamed for his dad to come. After that, his mom spent the rest of her days in the hospital. Maybe laying there, he would feel something. Maybe being there, something would be right. Maybe whatever happened to her, would happen to him.

Maybe that black ink that he always saw sucking her into the ground in his dreams, would reach up and take him too. Maybe he will be with her, where everything will feel right, and happy. The water might be warm there, and the nightlight might work again. Maybe the peanut butter and jelly would taste how it was supposed to. Maybe the soap will make his skin clean enough. Maybe a thousand times. It was a maybe he was praying for. Because maybe was a thousand times better than what he had now.

**

Stiles didn’t know how long he had lived like that. Weeks, days, months. He had no idea. He spent most of his time crying, and sleeping. Right on that bathroom floor. There were no windows. So he didn’t have even the slightest idea how many times the sun went around the earth during that time.

But one day, there was a lady and a man, and they took him from his very empty house. Stiles honestly didn’t know how he felt about that.

His next home wasn’t much better. There were more people. The house wasn’t empty at all. But it still felt that way. He still cried all the time, and he still got that sinking feeling, the one where he couldn’t breathe. The only difference was that there were people to see him. People living their lives watching him. Mocking him. Yelling at him. Telling him to stop being a baby, stop crying all the time.

“So what your mother is dead.” One kid said to him. “I bet she’s happier without you anyway.”

That hurt Stiles. That hurt him more than the punches they gave him, and the kicks to the stomach. It hurt more than the hunger pains. It hurt like a knife to the heart. Because maybe his mom wanted to leave him. Maybe she preferred the ground to Stiles. Maybe she got tired of cutting the crust off his sandwiches. Maybe she didn’t want to tuck him in, or sing. Or brush his hair. Maybe she was bored of plugging in the night light, and warming the water. Maybe she died on purpose, and she doesn’t want Stiles to come with her. Suddenly all of the maybes were a thousand times worse.

Suddenly food made him want to throw up. Suddenly that black ink in his dream rejected him, attacked him. Pushed him away with all its strength, keeping him away from the hole it dug his mother in, and Stiles cried, he begged. He just wanted to see her one more time. He wanted to ask her. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell her he would be a good boy without candy bars. That if she came back, he would make his own sandwiches. But the ink never let up. It never let him go see her, and Stiles was stuck. Cut up, alone, stabbed in the heart, with no air to breath. And he was forced to live through it. Because not even death wanted him.

**

Stiles was sitting in the corner, he had to lean up against the wall to keep himself upright. He was about to sleep. Because that was all he could do now. He was forced into the dream, the one where he is constantly battling the black ink for just one peak at his mother.

He heard voices. Which wasn’t uncommon. There were so many kids, they were always talking, yelling. Making fun of Stiles, playing, pushing, and shoving him. He used to throw up. But by now his stomach was so empty there was nothing to throw up.

“So you haven’t seen anything unusual in the area?” A voice asked. It was a new voice. At least Stiles thought it was. It didn’t seem familiar.

“Um, no, I haven’t sorry.” Mrs. Green said. That was his foster mother. He hated her. She wanted all the kids to call her mom, but he wasn’t going to do it. He hated her, she was mean and she hit Stiles when he didn’t sit up straight. She was an evil old woman who should die. She should be taken by the black ink, Stiles thought. Because if anyone deserved to be taken by the black ink it was her.

The man sighed. “Thank you, I knew it was a long shot. Sorry for taking up your time.” The man said. Stiles heard a few footsteps but then they abruptly stopped.  Stiles’ curious mind wanted to open his eyes and see why the man stopped walking, but he was so tired and weak. He simply couldn’t. “What the hell?” The footsteps started again and they got louder. Suddenly a pair of warm fingers were on his neck. He flinched, but not much. “Call an ambulance. Now!” The man yelled. “Hey kid, can you hear me?” The man said, shaking Stiles gently.

Stiles groaned as a response that was the only noise he could muster.

“What the hell kind of house is this. You’re all bones kid.” The man said. Stiles doesn’t remember what happened right after that but the next thing he did remember was waking up in a hospital, and he noticed a man sitting in the chair next to him when he looked around.

“Hey kid.” The man said when he noticed Stiles was awake. Stiles tried to sit up but he wasn’t strong enough. “Whoa, hey, you should sit back and relax. The doctors said you should be fine after a few days and then you can come home with me.” The man said. Stiles looked at him confused. Not understanding why he would be going home with him, and the man chuckled as if he could read Stiles’ mind.

“My name is Chris Argent. I went by Mrs. Greens home for some business, when saw you, starved and near death sitting in the corner. I told her to call the ambulance and two days passed and now you are finally awake. They have been feeding you though this bag right here.” Chris pointed to a bag hanging next too two others on a hook next to the bed. “During those two days I have decided that you shouldn’t stay at that home, and for the mean time you are going to be staying with me and my wife Victoria, and my daughter Allison. But don’t worry it’s not forever, it’s just until we can find you a proper foster home so this doesn’t happen again.”

That’s how Stiles met the first Argent.

The next day he met Victoria and Allison. A tall skinny woman with red short hair walked in, with her young daughter, who looked only just a little older than Stiles, with black curly hair walked into his hospital room.

“Hello Stiles, I am Victoria, Chris’ wife, and this is our daughter Allison.” She said walking up to the bed and offering her hand to shake. Stiles shook it with a weak grip but she didn’t say anything about it. Allison didn’t say anything but she smiled softly and waved at him. Stiles smiled back. He remembered thinking in that moment, that these people seemed really nice, and that impression stuck.

After four days in the hospital, he was released into the Argents custody and went to the Argent home, and moved in. They let Stiles sleep in the guest room. The walls were baby blue, and the sheets were white. There was a white carpet on the floor. The room oddly smelt like flowers. Not that Stiles had much experience with flowers. It just somehow reminded him of flowers. It was empty in the room except a dresser and a bed. They had cleared it out to make room for any personal items Stiles would have with him. But all he had was a picture of his mom and dad. It was kind of sad, he didn’t even have any clothes. He had to borrow some of Chris’ clothes, which honestly looked cute with how tiny they made Stiles look. Victoria kept sneaking pictures of Stiles, despite his best protests. But eventually Victoria took pity and made Chris take Stiles to the store and get anything he wanted.

Stiles had fun there. The first real fun he had in a long time.

*

At first Stiles was reluctant going to the store. He was fine lounging around in a shirt that is large enough to trip him if he walked too fast. At least that way he wasn’t expected to go outside, and then to school. But it wasn’t like he had a choice, they were in charge, he was living in their house after all. Besides they were really nice, and Stiles didn’t feel like rebelling. So he went.

Chris could tell how hesitant Stiles was about going, so he decided to make a game out of it. He let Stiles sit in the cart so he wouldn’t have to walk, and Stiles perked up at that idea, and he didn’t have to sit in the kiddy seat, he got to sit in the big part. So once they were inside the store and Stiles placed inside the cart. Chris looked around not knowing where to start.

“Okay Stiles. Where do you want to look first? You can get whatever you want.”

Stiles thought for a moment, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything he wanted. So he shrugged his shoulders, Chris sighed.

“Hold on, I got an idea.” Chris steered them to the toy section, and slowly walked down the aisle. Letting Stiles decide if he saw anything worthwhile. Instead of forcing Stiles to do something, or to want something. He walked slow, and looked at some toys himself.

Victoria won’t let him back in the house unless he brings something home. So if Stiles doesn’t end up wanting anything, he will just throw a few toys in the basket. He doesn’t know what Stiles is going to do to let him know he wants a toy. The only words he has said to them was; Yes, no, and thanks. But it would be fine, Stiles would think of something… he hoped.

“Wait.” Stiles said. Chris was shocked that Stiles had said anything he almost didn’t stop walking. But he did. Stiles reached onto the shelf and grabbed a shield. It was the Captain America shield. Chris smiled.

“Good choice. I was a great fan of comics when I was a boy. In fact we could pick up some comics too if you want?”

Stiles nodded as he looked down at the shield, and held it closely.

The eventually went home with; Superman bed sheets, and matching pillows and blankets. Four comic books. The Captain America Shield. One pair of Spiderman pajamas three pairs of pants and a t-shirt, and a hulk water bottle.

They also stopped at subway and he managed to get Stiles to speak more. He learned that Stiles apparently loves pickles, and meat. Which is good to know for the future. They went home with smiles and laughs on their faces. In the car Chris told Stiles about his first time reading a comic and how he thought it was real, and that he could one day grow up and find out he’s just like superman. He had a lot of funny stories. Stiles was still laughing at him when he walked into the front door.

“Oh I see you two got some stuff, let me see.” Victoria said from the living room. Chris and Stiles went in holding their bags. Stiles hesitated when he got into the living room. He had worked himself up, to talking to Chris, but he was still nervous and shy around everyone else.

“Go on, show her.” Chris said, encouraging him with a soft smile. Stiles smiled back and placed his bags on the floor and showed ever every item one at a time, smile bright on his face. Victoria was nice, and complemented every item.

“Okay, so we are going to put these in the dresser, and these can go on top of the dresser, and soon we can get you some more clothes, because it looks like you are going to be wearing the same two outfits for a week.” She chuckled. “Wait… is that subway I see? I hope you didn’t ruin your appetites for dinner tonight.”

“Oh no, trust me, we are going to eat dinner aren’t we Stiles?” Chris asked, and Stiles nodded happily.

**

Two weeks later he met Gerard Argent and Kate Argent.

*

Stiles was walking around the house in his Spiderman pajamas. When a knock came at the door. Stiles had warmed up to the three of them, but not anyone else. So whenever someone decided to come over, Stiles would retreat to his room. But this time Allison stopped him.

“It’s my auntie Kate, and my Grandpa! You have to meet them come one!” She grabbed Stiles’ hand and pulled him with her as she ran to the door. “GRANPA, AUNTIE KATE!!” Allison yelled when she saw them, as if she didn’t know it was the, before she opened the door. The blond lady and the old man both smiled and yelled Allison’s name, the old man picked Allison up, and the blond lady smiled at her, but then looked over to Stiles.

“Oh!” She gasped. “I didn’t know Spiderman Lived here! Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She smiled. Allison giggled.

“That’s not Spiderman that’s Stiles.” Allison said.

“No, that must be his real name. You aren’t supposed to give away their secret identities Allison.” Kate said shaking her head. But then she bent down so she was eye level with Stiles. “Spiderman, it’s an honor to meet you.” She holds out her hand to shake but Stiles hesitates. “It’s okay you know… your secret is safe with me.” She smiled, and Stiles smiled back, and shuck her hand.

The old man finally put Allison down.

“Did I hear the name Stiles by chance? Because funny thing is, I have a gift for someone by the name of Stiles.” He turns to Stiles, holding out a box that he had behind his back. “Young man, you wouldn’t happen to know a Stiles would you?”

Stiles nodded heavily, smiling in excitement.

“Oh you do? That’s just great! Could you point me in his direction?” The man asked. Stiles laughed and pointed at himself. “hmm? I don’t get it? Is he in the basement?”

Stiles shuck his head no.

“Is he behind you?” The man asked looking behind him.

Stiles shuck his head no again.

“Well you got me stumped, where is this Stiles boy?” The man asks.

“It’s me!” Stiles says.

“Ohh, that makes more sense. Now that I look at you I do remember seeing some photos of you sent by Victoria. You are much cuter in person I must say.” The man says handing Stiles the box, and Stiles immediately opens it.

It’s a circle thingy that Stiles has never seen before. “What is it?” he asks.

“That my boy, is a dream catcher. I also heard from a little bird that you sometimes get bad dreams, and I just thought, you needed something to stop them. You see what it does is, you hang it over your bed and at night when a bad dream comes to get you, this will catch it, and keep you safe from it.”

“Really?” Stiles askes, amazed but somehow reluctant to believe it.

“Yes it’s true. I swear it. Would you like me to hang it over your bed?”

“Yes.” Stiles said nodding his head.

“Okay then, lead the way little man, By the way, my name is Gerard, but to make it easier on you for the time being, you can call me grandpa.”  

*

After a few months he had met the entire Argent family, and they all decided that they should keep him. Despite the days it took Stiles to start eating normally, despite all the bad dreams and the amount of times he cried in one day. Despite the trips to the doctor and finding out that Stiles was having panic attacks. Despite all the work that they would have to put into Stiles if they kept him, and made him a part of their family. Despite all of that, everyone fell in love with him, and exactly 5 months after moving in with the Argents. Stiles was adopted by them, and he was happy about it.

**

 A few months after they finalized the adoption came up the conversation of changing Stiles’ last name.

*

“Hey kid, so I wanted to talk to you about something.” Chris said sitting down next to Stiles at the dinner table where Stiles was doing his homework.

“Okay.” Stiles said, putting down his book, and looking at Chris.

“So Victoria and I were wondering if you wanted to change, or keep your last name. There is no pressure to do either by the way. We are happy with whatever you pick.”

“Change my last name…” Stiles said thinking about it.

“Remember no pressure. You don’t have to even decide right now.”

“no it’s okay… it’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“If I change my last name then you will all have to start calling me Genim…” It’s not that Stiles didn’t like his first name. It’s just he had hardly ever been called by it. Teachers, friends, family, and strangers just meeting him, all call him Stiles. A last name is different. It’s not the name you are called by constantly. Stiles isn’t sure he will even realize someone is calling for him if they yelled Genim.

“Well, you can keep Stiles as your first name. That doesn’t have to change.”

“But the only reason everyone calls me it is because my last name is Stilinski.”

“Okay, well we can keep Stilinski as your last name. But just so you now, we can make Stiles your official first name, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Oh... But what will happen to my first name?”

“Well, do you want to keep it?”

“No… well… maybe… sort of…. But not really…” Stiles said, unsure of himself, and Chris chuckled softly.

“Okay, how does, Stiles Genim Argent, sound to you?” Chris asked, and Stiles smiled, because it was perfect. He didn’t want to give up his first name, because his mother picked it out for him, and Stiles was really just a part of who he was. But now he was also an Argent, and he wanted that to show too, and this was a great way. This he got to be a Stilinski, and an Argent. Which is exactly who he was.

“It sounds perfect to me.” Stiles said with a smile.

**

Stiles was happy after that, he had settled into the home fully after that, like the name gave him the perfect slot in their family. He had even taken to start calling Chris and Victoria Mom, and Dad, and he even looks at Allison as a sister.

“Do you ever think about him?” Allison asked Stiles, between spoonful’s of her cereal.

“Think about who?” Stiles asked.

“Your dad… the one who you are actually related to.” She asked. She was in Stiles’ room often and she always saw that picture of his mom and his dad. By now they had changed it to the avenger picture frame.

“Oh… um, not really? No. I don’t.” Stiles said. He had thought about The Sheriff once. It was a sad thought. It was bad. He thought about him, and what they would be doing now, had social services not taken him. Stiles wondered if maybe he would have been dead. It does make since, he either would have starved to death or… or something worse. After that morbid back flash he decided it was best not to think about him anymore. Not even when Chris asked him if he wanted to go see him once in a while. Maybe visit him once or twice.

But Stiles said no, he refused, it’s not that he was mad at the Sheriff, or anything, but he hadn’t seen him in over five years at that point. By now it was all painful memories. It was all dark thoughts and clouds of grey. That man had raised stiles mostly in the part of his life most people forget about by the time they are ten, and by now, the Sheriff was just that.

The Sheriff of Beacon hills.

**

It was Stiles’ tenth birthday now. He was going to have a party, he knew that much, but the rest it he didn’t know. It was supposed to be a surprise, but they should have known Allison couldn’t keep a secret. But it didn’t ruin it for him, it just made him excited.

The plan was that Gerard was going to pick him up and take him out, so they could set up the house and bring people over. It was going to take a few hours and it was no hardship on Stiles part to wait. Gerard was the best. He always spoiled Stiles. He often joked that Stiles was the son he never had, even though he had a son… Chris… But that was just another sign that Stiles was the favorite. Stiles could tell the relationship between his dad and Gerard was stressed. But they talked often, Gerard was around a lot so it wasn’t too bad. It was just a fact of life.

But what Gerard had planned, was sure to put more strain on that relationship. Gerard told Stiles about it in the car.

“Hey there My boy! Happy birthday!” Gerard said, as Stiles climbed into the backseat.

“Thanks Grandpa!” Stiles said with a smile.

“How does it feel to be ten? Do you feel like a man?”

“How do you know if you feel like a man?”

“Well, if you have to ask then that’s the answer. But don’t worry what I have planned today is sure to push you over the line into manhood.”

“What are we going to do?” Stiles asked.

“Today, I am going to teach you how to shoot a gun.”

“What? Really? Dad says I’m not allowed!”

“Well, I say you are allowed, and I am his dad, so my word is law!” Gerard says with a smile. He then starts the car and they drive off to the park, were they walk deep into the woods. Stiles was jumping with excitement. Chris was a gun salesman or something, and he has like a billion guns in his basement. He also has other cool weapons and stuff that Stiles has always wanted to learn to use. Chris caught Stiles in the basement looking at the guns, and he and Allison have been banned from there for forever.  

So this might just be his first and last chance to hold a gun. They stopped somewhere deep, Gerard seemed to know exactly where he was going. He must have set it up beforehand.

“Okay boy. This is a gun. You know that already. This is a trigger, the is the clip where you put the bullets, this is how you cock the gun, and this is safety.” Gerard said, handing Stiles the gun he pulled from a gun holster on his hip. It looked so cool. Stiles was thinking he wanted to ask for one but he didn’t want to push his luck. After Gerard showed him every part and described it. He handed Stiles the gun. “Now… you see that tree? I want you to hit it. You hit anywhere on it, but aim for that tree. Okay?”

“Yes.” Stiles held up the gun. It was heavy and his arms were already tired. But he was going to do this. It was fun. Besides his dad would never let him do anything like this. He wasn’t going to give up now.

“Hold up there Stiles.” Gerard said grabbing the gun. “You have to distribute your weight. Most guns have kick back and if you aren’t even up, you will get knocked on your keister. So make sure you are grounded, and that your body is balanced and steady.”

“Okay…” Stiles says, he spreads his legs a little bit, and he felt steady.

“…Okay now here you go.” Gerard hands him the gun back. “Now hold the gun with both hands, it helps with the weight and aim. Someday you will be able to shoot with both your eyes closed and a hand behind your back, but for now, you need to keep both hands on the gun.”

Stiles nodded and put both hands on the gun and took a deep breath, his hands were shaking, more out of being nervous than the gun being heavy. His hands were starting to get sweaty. But he focused, and shot the gun.

The sound echoed against the trees. Birds flew from their nests, squirrels ran for their lives, and Stiles got knocked on his keister. Gerard laughed as Stiles laid there like he got struck by lightning. Stiles coughed because that was a really big kickback.

“Well done son! You hit the tree!” Gerard said as he helped Stiles up. Stiles looked over, and sure enough, he hit the tree. Stiles smiled.

“I did it!”

“Yes you did. When I first gave you father a gun, he dropped it, and completely missed his target, and you are already ten times better than he was.”

“Am I really.”

“Yes you are.” Gerard says patting him on the back, but then Stiles winced. “What’s wrong?”

“My shoulder hurts really bad…”

Gerard looked at his back, and Stiles shirt had a rather large blood stain on it. “Oh no.” He moved the shirt out of the way and looked at his bare back. There was a large gash, probably from a rock when the kickback knocked him on the ground. “We should take you home now. Don’t want that to get infected.”

So Gerard and Stiles quickly walked back to the car and began to drive home.

“You know you are a real solider, you didn’t cry or anything.”

“I’m not a baby.” Stiles said, rolling his eyes.

“Your right, you are tuning into a young man right you are. You probably got your first battle wound and you shot your first gun. Pretty exciting for your first birthday huh?”

“Yeah it is.” Stiles said, trying to look over his shoulder at the cut, all he could see was a bit of blood from the angle. The park was only about ten minutes from the house, so they were back in no time. Stiles and Gerard knocked instead of just going in. Chris opened the door with a smile, that faded when he saw it was Gerard and Chris.

“Um… you guys are back early… what’s up?” Chris asked, looking directly at Gerard, keeping the door as closed as he possibly can, so Stiles can’t see into the house.

Gerard sighed and looked down at Stiles and then back up at Chris. “Well, I didn’t think you’d appreciate getting a call from the hospital, so I brought him here first.”

“What?” Chris said stepping outside. Looking at Stiles, noticing the red stain that had grown to be shown from the front of his shirt. “What happened?” Chris said, turning Stiles around. “Oh god, there’s so much blood!”

“The boy fell, and got a bit of a gash. Its nothing too bad. Gosh, when did you become such a soccor mom?” Gerard said rolling his eyes. Chris ignored him.

“Okay Stiles come one inside, we need to change your shirt and get some paper towels and get you to the hospital right away.

“But Dad, I’m fine, I’m a young man now. Grandpa said so! It doesn’t even hurt unless you touch it!” Stiles whined. He felt like he was being babied and he wanted to prove himself.

“Well you need to get stiches, get through that without crying and you can be as much as a man as you want.” Chris said grabbing Stiles’ hand to walk him inside but Stiles just pulled from him.

“Dad!! I’m not a baby! I can walk inside by myself.” He said embarrassed. Chris did that a lot. He would pick Stiles up even if it wasn’t necessary, and holding his hands sometimes. He thinks they maybe get confused about how old and mature he is, because he’s short and skinny. But now he’s tall and he needs to be cool.

At least in front of Gerard he did. Chris sighed, seeming to understand and raised his hands in defeat.

“Okay, my bad, no hand holding. Please, you lost a lot of blood, it’s not good we need to hurry.” It wasn’t too much blood, but a lot of the blood had dried on the shirt and Chris really couldn’t measure how much he had lost by the shirt. So he would rather be safe than sorry. He will be damned if he lets comments like ‘soccer mom’ stops him from making sure Stiles is okay.

“Okay.” Stiles said nodding, walking into the house. “But I am a solider, I’m a young man now, I can shoot guns and-”

“You what?” Chris asked interrupting Stiles’ rambling.

“Umm……” Stiles said. Shutting his mouth, thinking it wasn’t the best idea to tell his dad that at this moment.

“I took the boy shooting.” Gerard said, stepping in.

“You did what!!?” Chris yelled turning to Gerard. “I thought you were going to the park!!”

“We did, I just took the boy to learn a few things that’s all. No need to yell, he shot at a tree, one single shot, that’s all.”

“No need to yell? No need to yell, hmm. You took my soon, out to the middle of the woods, without my permission, so you can teach him how to shoot a gun? He is twelve years old!! He could have been hurt! He was hurt! He could have accidentally shot you, or himself! He is too young for that not to mention I don’t want Stiles knowing how to shoot guns. I have hundreds of them in the basement, what if Scott comes over one night and Stiles wants to show him what you taught him huh? Does that sound safe to you?”

“No, but Stiles is a smart boy, and a great shooter. He handled the kick back like a man, and besides I taught you to shoot when you were nine. Too young is just nonsense. I think it’s time to start involving him in things. Show him the way of the world and our place, and his Argent legacy.”

“I told you I don’t want that for Stiles. Or Allison for that matter!”

“But you let the girl live out her life, letting her do archery. Let the boy do something. He told me you won’t even let him to wrestling. What’s up with that huh?”

“I just don’t want that for Stiles, and that’s all the explanation I need, I am his father and it is my decision. You do not go behind my back and undermine me! Now, get out. I have to take Stiles to the hospital.”

“Fine. I’ll leave. But know, you can’t keep the boy from the world his entire life. Soon enough it’s going to find him, and wouldn’t you rather he knows how to handle himself when that day comes?”

“I’d rather that day never come at all.”

*

That day was the day Stiles truly first heard the reasoning where their differences began. How they were raised. He and Allison. Gerard, the cool grandfather, who wanted his grandkids to grow up, strong and prepared for the world. Chris, the protective father, who wanted his kids, to remain innocent, and carefree for as long as they could be, to give them a different childhood than he had. And he was willing to keep Gerard away for as long as it took him to understand that.

But Gerard always managed to weasel his was back.


	2. The Argent Family Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, i got busy and then i questioned why i do this to myself all the time, and i didn't come up with any answers.

“Okay Allison you have to hurry up, you are blocking me in!” Stiles yelled from the bottom of the stair case tapping his foot and fingers in impatience. Allison was curling her hair, which took forever, like always. She didn’t even bother to respond, considering it was the fourth time Stiles yelled up.

“Come on Stiles she will be down when she will be down, rushing her is not going to help you.” Victoria said, in the kitchen, chopping apples and putting them into Stiles and Allison’s lunch bags. They didn’t let them eat the school lunch because it wasn’t healthy enough for their taste. Stiles didn’t mind, neither did Allison. It helped them avoid that terrible lunch line. Allison’s lunch bag was a normal red bag, and Stiles’ was an avenger’s bag, and he prided that bag, no matter how many times Allison made fun of him for it.

“But this is why I said I should be the last one to park, now I am forced to be here and wait for her.” Stiles complained loudly so Allison could hear him from upstairs. Then he heard the bathroom door slam shut and he sighed, because now she was really just ignoring him. 

“It’s only 7:30, why are you trying to get there so early?” She asked, pulling out some strawberries, and blueberries to rinse off and then place in plastic sandwich bags and into the lunch bags.

“Scott finally got his motorcycle and he was going to take me for a ride on it.” Stiles whined as he sat down. As he did, Chris walked into the kitchen.

“What’s this I hear about motorcycles?” Chris asked, grabbing a blueberry and popping it into his mouth.

“Apparently Scott is now the proud owner of a motorcycle.” Victoria said with a chuckle. “And Stiles is going to take a ride on it.”

“Oh no he’s not.” Chris said, giving her a kiss on the forehead and turning to Stiles.

“What? Why not!?” Stiles asked, standing up out of his seat.

“Because you know how I feel about Motorcycles.” Chris said, grabbing another blueberry and eating it.

“Yeah, about me owning one. Not riding one, just once.” Stiles said, as if that was a great argument.

“All it takes is one time for you to be paralyzed, or to become brain dead. Or you know, just dead.” Chris said.

“I can become brain dead walking down the steps if I fall the right way.” Stiles said, crossing his arms.

“Which is exactly why your room is on the first floor and not the second.” Chris said laughing, and ruffling Stiles hair.

“Stop it, it’s not funny, please can I ride it once Dad, just once? Scott got his six month instruction permit. We won’t even leave the school parking lot. Please, please, please!?” Stiles begged.

“Here, I will make you a deal. If you can get out of this-” Chris wrapped his arm around Stiles neck and then push him down so he was in a tight headlock. “-then you can ride his motorcycle as many times as you want.” He laughed, and ruffled Stiles’ hair as he was holding him.

“Ow, no fair! I wasn’t prepared!” Stiles said, as he struggled to budge even a little bit but he couldn’t. “This is cheating!” He heard the side door open but he couldn’t see who came in. But he soon found out who it was.

“Oh, so now you are going to teach the boy how to handle himself.” Gerard said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Chris sighed and let Stiles go.

“What are you doing here, Gerard?” Chris asked Gerard, as Stiles had to catch his breath, his face was red vein in his forehead present as ever.

“What, I need a reason to be here now? A Grandpa can’t stop by to see his grandkids now a days?” Gerard said raising his hands in surrender.

“Well if you need to travel over four-hundred miles then yes, you do.” Chris said crossing his arms. “Also you could have called first.”  

“We can talk about my reasons later, first I want to say hello to my grandson if that’s alright with you?” Gerard said, walking around him to Stiles. “Hey my boy.” He said, pulling Stiles into a hug.

“Hey Grandpa. How long are you staying in town?” Stiles asked hugging him back.

“Well, depends, it’s more of a work thing, but I will stay longer to make sure I get some time to take you and Allison out. You need some meat. Your practically paper thin. Are you feeding you?” Gerard asked, looking Stiles up and down. Stiles laughed.

“Yes they are feeding me. Sadly everything they do feed me ends in berries.”

“Okay then.” Then Gerard leaned in just a bit. “Blink twice if you need help.”

“Okay, Gerard really?” Chris asked with a sigh not amused. But Stiles was having fun so he blinked twice in quick succession. Just then footsteps were heard.

“Oh thank goodness!!” Stiles said, “Next time I park last, or I will go through your car.” Stiles said picking up his backpack. Allison just rolled her eyes.

“Okay mom, I will be home at 5 because I have archery practice today.” She said, as she hugged the fire red head.

“Okay, come straight home after.”

“I will.” Allison replied and kissed Chris on the cheek and headed out the door, grabbing her lunch box.

Stiles began picking up his backpack, as she headed out the front door, giving Gerard a hug. She took after Chris in that way, she didn’t say much, but she held to her family duties, like being pleasant, respecting him. But she didn’t do anything more than pleasant. Stiles didn’t really notice it as it happened. It wasn’t a sudden, it was slow over time. So it was more, Stiles took after Victoria more than he did Chris. Which there was a reason for it.

Chris was more active, he was into dangerous things, like selling guns. He was great at fighting and great with all kinds of cool weapons. But Chris didn’t allow Stiles to learn to fight, or play sports. It wasn’t really fair, considering Allison was allowed to. But Stiles didn’t fight it much. He wasn’t that interested in sports. He was small, and weak. His endurance was in the negatives. Honestly, he breathes hard walking up the steps. But Gerard gives him the fuel, he brings up all the good things that would happen if Stiles was in a sport, if he had some training with weapons, or fighting.

So with lack of all the interest in sports and weapons, Stiles naturally became more like Victoria. Stiles loved Gerard, and Victoria did too.  

“Okay, bye mom.” Stiles said as he hugged her. Chris opened up his arms for a hug but Stiles dodged him. “You already got your hug when you head locked me.” Stiles said with a chuckle, and hugged Gerard. “Bye Grandpa.” Stiles said, but then he stopped when Gerard whispered in his ear something.

“Hang back, we are skipping today.” Gerard whispered. Stiles smiled and nodded. This happened more often than not. Gerard would visit, then when Stiles was supposed to go to school, Stiles would park in the library parking lot, and met with Gerard.

It was great, because Gerard would call the School and pretend to be Chris to tell them that Stiles has a cold or something and won’t be able to attend. It was perfect, and they have never been caught. Stiles always gets his homework the next day, and it’s like it never happened.

Stiles waved everyone good bye, and he left.

“Okay, so why are you really here?” Chris asked, as soon as Stiles was gone.

“I’m hunting. You know, they thing you stopped doing a long time ago.”

“I stopped, so that I could be here for my kids.”

“Well they aren’t kids anymore, your excuse is no longer valid.”

“I’m out dammit!” Chris yelled done with this, it happened every time he visited. “Why don’t you leave it alone? I have no excuses, I don’t need them I am out. I’m done with hunting.”

“Well…at least don’t hold your kids back from their legacy, their last name, it’s in Allison’s blood, the hunting calls her, and I see it in Stiles, I see he wants to try, he wants to be a part of it. He wants to be a complete argent, but you are holding them back.”

“It’s not what I want for them, and they are my kids, not yours it’s not your decision.”

_

Stiles backed out of the driveway as soon as Allison pulled out and was on her way. The anger of waiting for her to get ready had drifted away considering now he wasn’t even going to school. He turned dwon the same street she did and then slowed down until she was far up and then made a left. He didn’t want her to see him skip school and tell their parents, he was much too experienced at his by now. So once he turned it was pretty much a straight shot to the library except for two small turns. But he was there in under ten minutes. After he got there he parked and waited in his jeep.

He wondered what he and Gerard were going to do this time. It had become such an often thing. They would meet up at the library, Gerard would call the school pretending to be Chris saying Stiles was too sick to come in or something like that and then they would spend the day doing something Chris would blow a gasket if he ever found out.

Once they went hunting. Just running down rabbits and deer in the woods and shooting them, he remembered that day so well. At first he was hesitant to do it. Rabbits and Deer seemed so innocent and pure, he didn’t want to just kill them, epically since they weren’t even going to do anything but leave them there. It’s not like they could take them home since it had been a secret. Stiles remembered what Gerard said to him. How he told him about overpopulation, and how hunting was actually good for the environment as long as you weren’t over killing, or targeting an endangered species. He told him about how it was the way of life, and how it only seemed wrong because they were more advanced and had an advantage since they had guns. After their talk Stiles had managed to relax and get into the hunting. When they were done Gerard patted him on the back and told him he was a natural born hunter.

Another time Gerard took him to the shooting range, it was great because he knew the owner so they overlooked that he wasn’t 18. He got to shoot a bunch of different guns. He got to shoot a shotgun, an automatic, he tested out a sniper rifle which honestly was thrilling. The kneeling down, taking a deep breath, looking at a target through a scope, and then waiting for the right moment, and then Bang. If done right all it ever take is one shot, there isn’t much room for error when working with a sniper. At least that’s what Gerard told him. Stiles was oddly great at shooting. His aim was anything but amature, and he was oddly capable of patience with a gun in his hand. Like it was the only time his body allowed him to have complete control over it and his thought’s.

Another time they weren’t drinking. It was the day before his 14th birthday and Gerard wanted Stiles to spend the night, so he did, and they picked up vodka, Absinth, and something else Stiles doesn’t remember, and Stiles took a shot of each, and he vows never to ever drink again in his entire life. His throat burned for the next three days, and his stomach for the next two. But Gerard said that it would put hair on his chest, but honestly that saying never made sense to Stiles anyway.

But these were all the reasons why Gerard was such an awesome grandpa. He let Stiles do things that Chris would never let him do. The things he craved doing, like all the other normal teenagers he knew. Lydia has a party every weekend and they always have alcohol. Stiles never was bold enough to actually dare drink any of it. But he was happy he got the chance to with Gerard instead of having a bad experience with almost every person that went to his school. But he got to do the dangerous stuff with Gerard that Chris was so opposed to. Even Allison got to learn archery. Stiles had no interest in archery, but he wasn’t allowed which made him want to do it. Come on you know that feeling. Where you have no intention of doing something, but the moment someone tells you, you can’t do it, you get that insatiable urge.  

Gerard often fought Chris about that. Always mentioning that Stiles wasn’t a toddler anymore, and how he had to let him start being a man. Stiles has almost gotten tired of fighting. But he couldn’t deny how much fun he had with Gerard every day.

But Stiles was shaken out of his thoughts when his phone buzzed in his pocket with the notification of a text message.

 **Scott:** _Where r u? class is gonna start soon_  

 **Stiles:** _Not going today, too sick_

 **Scott:** _Are you dying?_

 **Stiles:** _No lol._

 **Scott:** _THEN YOU HAVE NO REASON NOT TO BE HERE!!!_

 **Scott:** _You begged me for hours to let you ride on my bike, you got me to come here early, and now you are suddenly too sick? You better have the plague man!_

 **Stiles:** _I’m sorry lol, I will be there tomorrow. I promise._

 **Scott:** _Okay lol, but we are going to have to do it after school because I am not getting up early again. Also do u want me to get you a copy of the homework?_

 **Stiles:** _Sure man thanks._

 **Scott:** _Anytime, text you later, I gotta get to class._

 **Stiles:** _Make good choices._

 **Scott:** _You have seen that movie too many times._

 **Stiles:** _You know I love Lindsay Lohan_

 **Stiles:** _Before she started doing drugs that is._

 **Scott:** _Yeah yeah, I know. Lol._

Stiles tucked his phone back into his pocket and sat back in his jeep. He wondered if Gerard and Chris were still arguing, and how much longer he was going to have to wait. But his question was soon answered with a knock at his window. He zoned out to the point where he didn’t even see Gerard walk up to his jeep.

He sat up with a smile an opened his door.

“Wow you’re here earlier than I expected.” Said Stiles. “I though you and Dad would argue for at least another thirty minutes.”

“You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.” Gerard said.

That was Stiles’ cue to change the subject. “So what are we doing today?”

“Today, I am letting you in on the family secret. It’s about time I finally ended this foolishness your father has started.”

Stiles was confused at that. “What family secret?”

“It’s better I showed you than told you.” Stiles, unbuckled himself and locked his jeep and walked over to Gerard’s SUV. He felt growing anxiety with every step. Because that doesn’t sound ominous now does it?

Stiles stepped up into the SUV, closed the door and buckled up.

_

Scott got to the school just after 7: 40 and waited for Stiles. He was expecting him to already be there considering it was his idea to even do this. Scott was not one for waking up earlier in the morning than he had to. But Stiles insisted like crazy. He really didn’t take no for an answer. It’s something Scott loved about him, but also hated. Like it was great for getting out of trouble, but it also got them into equal amounts of trouble. Then there was times like these. Where Stiles wanted Scott to do something he didn’t want to do.

Nevertheless he found himself sitting there in the parking lot waiting for Stiles. By the time it was 8:50 he texted Stiles, because there was no way they were going to have time to ride now.

_Scott: Where r u? class is gonna start soon_

_Stiles: Not going today, too sick_

_Scott: Are you dying?_

_Stiles: No lol._

_Scott: THEN YOU HAVE NO REASON NOT TO BE HERE!!!_

_Scott: You begged me for hours to let you ride on my bike, you got me to come here early, and now you are suddenly too sick? You better have the plague man!_

_Stiles: I’m sorry lol, I will be there tomorrow. I promise._

_Scott: Okay lol, do u want me to get you a copy of the homework?_

_Stiles: Sure man thanks._

_Scott: Anytime, text you later, I gotta get to class._

_Stiles: Make good choices._

_Scott: You have seen that movie too many times._

_Stiles: You know I love Lindsay Lohan_

_Stiles: Before she started doing drugs that is._

_Scott: Yeah yeah, I know. Lol._

The Scott put his phone on silent and shoved it in his back pocket, and headed inside the school. Somehow he felt cooler with his Helmet in his arm, his new black leather jacket and a fresh haircut. To be honest he felt like a badass. Not something he felt every day, so he was going to cherish it.

He walked down the hall, set his helmet, backpack, and books in his locker, and headed to class just as the bell rang. When he walked in he smiled seeing Allison already sitting in her seat.

 “Hey.” Scott said, sitting down next to her at the desk. They gave each other a quick kiss before the teacher could see.

“Hey,” She said pulling back with a dimpled smile. “How sad was Stiles this morning?”

“What?” Scott asked confused.

“How sad was he that dad said he can’t ride your motorcycle? Did he throw a temper tantrum? Or rave on and on about how dad is so unfair?”

“Oh he isn’t here, he’s sick. How come you didn’t know that?”

“…Because he’s not sick. He hassled me to move my car out of the driveway so he could hurry here this morning.” She said, eye brows furrowing.  

“Maybe he got sick after you left. He texted me ten minutes ago saying he was staying home today.”

“Oh, well he didn’t tell me.” She said with a shrug.

“Cool, we still on for after school?” Scott said refereeing to their afterschool make out sessions that they had once a week. Which is why Allison always had ‘archery practice’ one day more than she actually did, which happened to fall on the only day Scott didn’t have lacrosse practice.

“Yep, I told my mom I would be home at five.” She said with a smile, whispering now because they got a dirty look from Mr. Harris.

_ 

“I know how you feel. You married a hunter, and you want me to continue being a hunter. But we talked about this. I want to be here for Allison and Stiles. I hate the way I grew up. To numb your emotions, to be a killer. Sometimes it was justified. But not every time. Sometimes it wasn’t necessary, sometimes we could have given the benefit of the doubt. But we didn’t. We crossed that line, an entire family died, women, old men, and children. Three entire generation’s murdered in one night. I can’t go back into that. I can’t let our kids, be subjected to that sort of life, not when I feel the regret that I do, and know that’s what’s waiting for them.”

They had been arguing like this ever since Gerard left. Like always after his visits the differences between the two seem to shine like a lighthouse on the ocean at night. Which made them argue. Another reason he wanted Gerard to stay the hell away, not to mention the fight Stiles always managed to put up every time he came back. Because suddenly Stiles wanted to be a ‘man’ and do things like shoot guns, play sports, fight.

Stiles can’t even walk in a straight line much less run. The reason he can’t do archery is because Stiles is downright clumsy and he’s worried Stiles will lose an eye. He gets a heart attack every time Stiles goes up and down the steps. Because he always misses one or two steps. Something that clumsy shouldn’t be handling a weapon that can kill or seriously debilitate someone.

“Chris, think of how many lives you saved? These animals are dangerous. They kill, they are strong, and they’re unnatural. Freaks of nature. Abominations. You ended a line of monsters, dangerous killers. You don’t need to feel bad about that. That’s not something you have to regret. You know that girl we found in the woods. Paige, her name was. They killed her, that family you feel guilty over. Where was their guilt for her death? She was just a kid a girl with a bright future that was cut down suddenly when her neck was broken. She had a family, people who miss her every day because those damn animals killed her. Imagine how many other young girls don’t have to die because that family is gone. Imagine how many other families don’t have to feel that pain.”

This was always her standpoint, how many possible lives were saved. But no one was ever in imminent danger. There was no actual threat on anyone’s life, and what happened to Innocent until proven guilty. Chris hated that word ‘monsters’ He felt like he was the monster. All those people did was live, most of them were born werewolves, they didn’t chose that life, and being a werewolf doesn’t automatically make you a killer. She always brought up that girl Paige. It was sad yes, but one person killed her, maybe two, an entire family did not deserve to die for that, they didn’t deserve to be murdered in their own home, burned alive.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right Victoria!”

“What if it was Allison? What if it was her you found, black blood oozing out of her nose and ears? Bitten, and her neck snapped. Her body crudely thrown and abandoned in the woods. Would you understand then? Would the guilt be satisfied then? If it does satisfy it to think like that then do. Because every day she isn’t prepared for the world she lives in, every day that she doesn’t know how to protect herself from those monsters it could be her we find one day. You should think about that every day she is late coming home, feel it for every single second. ‘Is today going to be the day she doesn’t come home?’ ask yourself that, feel that pain and worry. Then tell me you still don’t want them to feel a little regret over being protected.”

He just shuck his head. Because he had no fear that they were in danger. The werewolves are scared of hunters and they have every right to be. He wasn’t going to throw Stiles and Allison in to that world because Gerard wanted more hunters, because he wanted someone else to corrupt and control. He made his stand and he wasn’t going to back down, no matter how many times Gerard came over, no matter how many times he and Victoria argued. He meant what he said, he wasn’t going to throw his kids down a path of murder and regret.

_

They drove up to an old abandoned house, it looked absolutely destroyed. Gerard parked and they both got out of the car.

“What are we doing here?” Stiles asked, hand fighting together. The not knowing everything was killing him. It all felt so creepy and ominous.

“Well it’s the only place out of the way we could find on short notice to hold it.”

_It_

**It**

**_ It _ **

What the f*** is it? That doesn’t sound scary at all. Stiles would very much prefer to go back to school right now and just take detention with Mr. Harris for being late.

“What’s ‘it’? And who’s we?”

Kate walked through what was once a front door of this destroyed house with a wicked smile. “Took you long enough, you had no idea how hard it was for me not to touch him waiting for you.” 

HIM? What????

“You didn’t touch it did you?” Gerard asked, serious tone.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Good. Come on Stiles, it’s time to let you know that the name Argent means.”

Stiles had no idea what was going on or what was waiting for him on the other side of that doorway but he followed along.

“It means silver doesn’t it?” Stiles asks following them in, stopping to give Kate a hug and then continuing in. they walked through the home and Stiles looked around. There was dust everywhere, and ash. The walls were burnt to different levels all over. He wondered what they would need to keep away so much they went to an old burnt down home.

“Yes very good. A long time ago the Argents were given that name because of the weapons they used, and because of what they hunted with those weapons.”

“They hunted with silver weapons?”

“Yes, well no, occasionally. Silver isn’t actually the best to use when killing, but they loved the fear it struck in others, so they kept it.”

“Oh.” Stiles said, trying to understand why this history lesson was so important.

They made a turn down a hall and were presented with a door. Gerard opened it, and they all went down into the basement.

Nothing could have prepared Stiles for what he saw when they got there.

Nothing.

In all the years he lived with the argents, all the birthdays, holidays, barbeques. All the times he spent the night at a cousin’s house, or Gerard’s house. All the conversations that he had with everyone. This never once came up. Never was it hinted at, never was it mentioned, or brought to his attention. Never did he ever suspect this is what the Argent family secret would be.

He didn’t even know they had a secret before today.

But he would have never suspected, that his grandpa and his aunt Kate, would lock a man in an old abandoned house or that, that man would have claws, and fangs, and glowing red eyes.


	3. Innocent Until Proven Guilty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter than usual, sorry for the wait, and thank you for all the lovely comments!!! It mean's a lot to me to see people reading and actually enjoying!! thank you! ^_^

Stiles stared in shock at the man. If he could call it that. It looked like a man… but some parts didn’t. His nails… they were pointed, thick, yellowed, claws is a better term. His eyes, they were normal... except for the red. They were bright and would have stood out even in the dead of night. Fangs in his mouth, much to long and thick to have been a natural part of his body.

If all this wasn’t enough to throw Stiles in shock, maybe the fact that he was tied up to these machines, that had dials, cords strung all around him, he was handcuffed, hands and feet. He looked like he was in pain breathing hard.

Confusion coursed through every inch of his being, the shock was slowly leaving.

Kate walked past Stiles and turned a nob and the man sighed, as if relieved. His breathing seemed less strained, and then another surprise headed for Stiles. His eyes turned from red, to a normal green. His claws shortened and went back to a human look, and his fangs sunk back into his gums to the normal canine size.

“I wanted you to see that.” Kate said, voice gentle walking up to Stiles.  “It’s hard to believe if you don’t see it for yourself Bambi.” She stopped walking once she was standing in front of him, but off to the side a little so he had a view of the man.

“Who… what- what is he… who is he?”

“He is a monster. An abomination on this earth.” Gerard began. “You may know them as Werewolves.”

Stiles looked at his grandfather like he was crazy. But then he realized, he had just seen it with his own eyes. Kate was right to show him, or else he would have argued. He would have thought his grandpa and Aunt mad, and ran home and told his father that they needed help.

“You see, the Argents have made it their life’s ambition to hunt down as many as these animals as possible and keep them in their place. We are hunters. We track down Werewolves and put them down.”

He looked at the man and at his grandpa. “You kill them?” His voice cracked, and sounded more scared than he meant it too.

“Yes. But we save lives by doing so. These animals- abominations, they are savaged, they murder and turn others. People don’t stand a chance against them. They are fast, and strong. Their claws will cut you faster than a sharp knife. Those fangs rip throats out, and if by some will they keep you alive they will turn you into one of them. You will be forced to changes, every full moon you will run around with no sense, killing anything you see move, and every other day, you are on edge, that taste of fresh meat in your mouth. That’s no way to live, and yet, people like him-” Gerard nods towards the man “-can force it on you. We stop that, it’s the argent family code. To stop this infection before it grows.”

“But… it’s a person. _He’s_ a person. You can’t just kill people.” Stiles said, and the man look him in the eye for the first time since he walked in. His face was in a permeant grouch, but for a second it looked like it softened when their eyes me, but then it went back to its grouch.  

“That’s right Bambi. You can’t just kill people, then you are no better than the animals. But that’s why they disguise themselves like us. To play on our moral codes, you don’t feel comfortable killing something that looks like the very thing you are trying to save. That’s why we have ways that help us pass this barrier. To show us who they really are, to separate them from the innocent.”

“I have been chasing this one for years.” Gerard began. “He is directly responsible for the death of a young girl named Paige.”

The man looked up at the mention of her name and growled loudly. Stiles took an unconscious step back. Because that growl wasn’t anywhere an imitation, it was scarier than a dog’s growl.

“It’s okay, he can’t do anything. You see that line on the ground around him Bambi? That’s called Mountain ash. I’m not sure why, but when you make it a line or circle around them, they can’t pass. Not to mention the cords that are set around him, they are electrical, and they give him small electrical pulses that keep him from everting his strength so he can’t break out of the cuff’s.” Kate explained.

It helped a little bit, but not completely.  “What did he do to the girl?” Stiles asked out of curiosity.

“We don’t know who exactly did it, but someone in his pack bit her, trying to turn her into a Werewolf, and it didn’t work.”

“So how did she die if it didn’t work?” Stiles asked, confused.

“He snapped her neck with his bare hands.”

Stiles’ eyes widened in surprise and he looked at the man. Stiles once did an essay on how movies were unrealistic because it’s not as easy to snap the human neck as it seems. It takes around 1,000 to 1,250 foot-pounds of torque to do so. The man was shirtless, he had obvious abs and muscles in his arms, but he didn’t look that strong. So they strength of a Werewolf must really surpass looks.

Gerard smiled at the look of bewilderment on Stiles’ face. “You must know it takes considerable strength to snap a neck. But he did it easily, and I should add that he didn’t have the physic that he does now when he did it. He was only 15 then.”

Stiles looked at Gerard, eyes so wide it looked like they could fall out of his face. “No way…”

“Yes, this is our problem. A teenager with the power to easily snap necks.  You are a teen you know how your mood swings are, imagine how you were angry at Allison today because of where her car was parked. Imagine if you had gone upstairs and snapped her neck, or thrown her across a room, where she landed on something sharp and died.”

The image of Allison dead was enough to make Stiles feel sick, but the thought that he would have been the one to kill her made it a thousand times worse.

“That’s what he does Bambi… he targets teens, he turns them and adds them to his pack. Every teen that he bites either becomes a Werewolf or dies. He is killing so many by doing this, whether he kills a teen, or one he turns kills someone, and there is no doubt, every werewolf has been responsible for at least one death in their life.”

Stiles felt sick with this whole situation. Werewolves were real, his family hunts them, and kills them. How was he never informed of this? Why is it all being piled on him in one day? In less than an hour in fact.

 “We have him here so we can get him to tell us the names of the kid’s he turned. We need to know.”

“You…. you are going to torture him.” The realization comes to Stiles slowly, too slow because the answer is right in front of him. The man-thing, is tied up to a modern day torture device of electricity they are in the middle of the woods, in an abandoned home basement. He’s guessing they aren’t kjust going to ask nicely and move on… they kill these people-things.

He keeps trying to make that distinction. It’s a thing… that’s what Gerard said it was… But Kate called it a He… it is a he, a strong hairy he.

“Yes, it’s the only way.”

“you... you can’t.” Stiles said, he was beginning to be out of breath, this was too much. _Too much, too much, too much._ The words echoed in his head over and over. He didn’t want this; he didn’t want to know this. The image of his grandpa and aunt changing to bad ones in his head.

“Just like Chris his first time.” Kate said, and Stiles looked at her… the image of his dad changing, he didn’t want that. He was a part of this… it was the Argent secret after all.

“Well what do you expect with the way he has been raised? We will have to let him do it his way, then he will see.” Gerard said, and Stiles didn’t understand that what was ‘his way’ exactly? “Stiles.” Gerard said turning to him. “We are going to let you try and get the names from him.”

“What- I… no...” Stiles said, he didn’t want any part of this. He wanted to go to school, or home, or anywhere other than here.

“Stiles… this is what the family does. We protect people, we stop these monsters. It’s hard sometimes. Sometimes we have to get our hands a little dirty, but I want you to understand that we have to. So I will let you do it the peaceful way, talk his ear off, stare him to death, do whatever you need to, explore every idea you have that isn’t violent. Because when it doesn’t work… I want you to have a clear conscience when we have to get our hands dirty.”

Kate and Gerard begin to leave heading up the wooden creaky steps. “Wait you’re leaving me!?” Stiles said panicking.

“We will be right outside, don’t worry.” Kate said with a soft smile.

“Also.” Gerard turned around before continuing. “Don’t let him down, no matter what, don’t touch the nobs, no matter what he says or does, do not let him lose because he will kill you as soon as he gets the chance.”

Because that didn’t scare the hell out of Stiles.

**

Chris paced back and forth, it’s how he got rid of anger, pacing. If he didn’t pace, he’d probably end up breaking something. This always happened when Gerard came, arguments. First it was an argument with Gerard, then one with Victoria, and soon enough it would be one with Stiles.

He hated how Gerard could ruin the balance of peace in their home. A level of happiness turned into anger and pettiness.

What he mostly hated about it, is what it did to Stiles. He turned into this person that he clearly didn’t want to be. Stiles didn’t really like sports. The only sport he vaguely had interest in was Lacrosse, and that’s because Scott is in it. Stiles had seemed perfectly find being a practice buddy with Scott and being there for him during games.

He had no interest to actually play, and the one time he asked to sign up, surprise surprise Gerard was there, standing behind him like a devil whispering in his ear. As soon as Gerard was gone, so with that sudden urge to be on the team.

Stiles isn’t cut out for sports, and he didn’t need to be, he was smart, funny, and kind. Those are the kind of things that make you a man. Being there when people need you. Being capable and kind. Not how many guns you shoot, or animals you kill. Those are the morals that he wanted to Stiles to have, that’s the kind of man he wanted to Stiles to grow up to be, and he wasn’t going to let Gerard corrupt him into some psychopath serial killer like he did with Kate.

Stiles was a good kid, a Great one actually. He loved his family, respected his parents, and occasionally was nice to his sister. He did his school work, he didn’t always manage to turn them in because of organization issues, but what teenager isn’t at least a little bit messy?

Chris heard his phone ringing so he grabbed it from the table. It was from the school. He didn’t hesitate to answer it, and he honestly couldn’t say he was surprised when they said Stiles didn’t show up for his first class this morning.

Stiles has never skipped before. Not according to his knowledge anyway, but this was exactly what he meant before. Stiles is a different person when Gerard is around.

**

“So… how about them Mets?” Stiles said, He didn’t know what else to say, which was uncharastic for him. But what do you say to a non-human person standing in front of you that you are supposed to be interrogating?

The man-thing, just looked at him, raising his eyebrows up just a sliver of an inch with an unimpressed tone to it. That was progress right?

“Well, I have been told that I am quite annoying once I begin talking so why don’t you talk instead.” Stiles asks. Because what was he supposed to ask? What was he supposed to say? Why did Gerard just leave him down here like this? Why why why?

The guy didn’t answer and the anxiety and confusion boiled up all at the same second.

“Okay well, fine you just want to sit there silently, well I guess standing… sorry about that. But my world just got freaking flipped, broken, and rearranged in the duration for 20 minutes and I don’t know how to deal with that, because apparently not only do freaking werewolves exist, but my family hunts them, like with guns and pitchforks, because apparently its part of the last name, and how did I live 16 years and am only hearing about this today? I Have no freaking idea! How does someone keep this a secret? Well I guess by killing people who know… wow…. My family really are a bunch of murderers. Does that mean I have to be a murderer? Because I don’t think I can do it if I am being 100% honest, like seriously. I get queasy looking at paper cuts. I can’t kill people! much less torture them. Like just seeing you tied up there makes my stomach feel sick… like I saw your face and you’re a werewolf and all I got that proof, but still, like that doesn’t change anything in my head… like even if you have killed people, a fact I don’t want to know while I am alone down here with you, I’m still adverse to wanting you dead, like you freak me out and all, but so do spiders, like I don’t want them dead, I just want them away from me you know? Like yeah people grab shoes and kill them, but like how else do you get rid of them? Because there is no way in hell that I am going to hold a spider and carry it out of my house, in a cup or not it’s just a no from me. It’s gross and creepy, and why the fuck do they have eight legs? That’s just extra! Like they can crawl up a freaking wall with two or four even, they don’t need eight, like they aren’t even heavy, the legs aren’t necessary. Besides that’s just spiders, don’t get me started on the other insects, because if it were up to me, the only bugs we would have would be bee’s, and they wouldn’t be able to sting. I have never been stung by a bee in my entire life, and I want it to stay that way. My friend Scott likes to go on walks in the woods and stuff, and he asks me to come with him, NOPE, that’s how you get stung. Have you even seen the movie My Girl? I have no idea if I am allergic to bee’s but I’m not going to find out that way. Allison likes to go with him, and I’m just like go be stupid if you want to, I will see you when you get back, I don’t care if they make fun of me, at least I haven’t gotten stung. I hate bugs. And honestly most of the outdoors. There are too many people. People are weird, they stink, and they expect you to have conversations with them. And I know it seems like I would be someone okay to hold a conversation with someone but I’m really not, I’m good with not talking to people for a few weeks, talking is more of a defensive mechanism than a social thing, like I talk the most when I nervous or scared, and I tend to lose my brain to mouth filter like I say more than I should or things that make people uncomfortable. It always leaves me feeling guilty or just like I screwed up bigtime. It’s because I have a bunch of crap wrong with me. I have ADHD, Two Sleeping disorders, occasionally an eating disorder, I am clumsy by nature, I think I need glasses, and I don’t know what allergy’s I have because I’m scared to go to the doctors and I go way more than I am comfortable with as is, and I will actually have a panic attack if I see a needle anywhere near me. Also my name is Stiles, by you probably heard my grandpa call me that. You look familiar, have we met before? What’s your name?”

“Derek.” The man said. Stiles looked up at him surprised he actually answered and he smiled. Because that was most deifinaly a victory.

_

Derek had no intention of saying anything to anyone. He refused to talk to hunters, especially the ones who were responsible for the death of his family. He vowed to kill Kate, and Gerard. He knew the argents and their story. He knew Chris personally; he was the only hunter he would ever trust in his life. He recognized Stiles as soon as he was in the basement, he had seen him multiple times. But he never thought Stiles saw him. Known Chris, and having a Pack that was in high school, was their common ground, he saw Stiles plenty at the high school especially since he was best friends with Scott, and the few times he was with Chris. Their scents had mingled, but Derek could tell that Stiles wasn’t actually blood related to the Argents.

The fact that he was living with Chris made him not a threat, he had Chris’ word that he wasn’t going to grow up to be a hunter. But here he was. Derek didn’t really blame Chris right now. It looked as if Chris might not know Stiles was here. He wouldn’t put it past Gerard and Kate. They are manipulators, trying to make Stiles a killer like them. Derek couldn’t let that happen. He was too close to Scott, they start training him, and making him the same psychopath as them, he was bound to notice how he and Scott never hang out on the full moon, how sometimes Scott disappears right after a lacrosse game, and then see the patterns in it. Scott was in danger as is dating Allison, but she didn’t know anything about werewolves so it was alright for the time being. Now that Stiles knew he could blow his cover to Gerard or Kate, and with Derek down here he couldn’t protect him. So he needed Stiles to be on his side.

So talking to him right now was a must.

“Cool” Stiles said after the shock went away. “it’s nice to meet you. Aside from the circumstances that is. Like maybe if we met outside of this basement it would be really nice to meet you, but since we are down here I will just say ‘nice’.” Stiles said with a shrug.

“You’re weird.” Derek hadn’t really meant to say that; it was something that just came out. He couldn’t help it, because the kid was actually weird.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Stiles said with a chuckle.

“They’re lying you know…” Derek said.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Gerard and Kate, they’re lying. I’m not the monster… they are.”

Stiles looked at him silently for a moment, confused. He was trying to get a read on Derek, to understand him. Of course Derek is trying to get Stiles to be against Gerard and Kate so he will set him free. Stiles’ knows better than that though. He doesn’t know if Derek has killed someone, but Gerard said he did… and that was enough for him not to let the man lose. Because Stiles may be against kidnapping and murder, but he isn’t stupid enough to let someone go that can immediately kill him, and honestly has good motive to. If he wants to get out of here, attacking Stiles and everyone here is an easy to ensure that.

“They aren’t monsters… kidnappers, maybe… a little crazy, maybe. But they aren’t monsters, I have never seen them do anything bad… until today, and even then… they have a reason. It may not be 100% justified or… or… right. But it’s still a reason. Sick people do the wrong things for reasons they think are right. Monsters do wrong things because they want to.” Stiles said, defending them. He may be really confused and scared right now, but he wasn’t about to go against Kate and Gerard. They were his family, he loved them and they loved him.

“Am I a monster Stiles?” Derek asked. “Do I look sick? Do you know for a fact that I have done something wrong?”

“No… but I saw your face. I know that you aren’t human… that you are a werewolf.”

“And is being a werewolf all it takes to qualify for a death sentence? Because if not, it’s innocent until proven guilty.” Derek says.

**

Gerard’s phone is ringing and he is about to silence it, but he stops when he sees that it’s Chris. He was listening in on Derek and Stiles, making sure nothing too bad was being said, at least the boy was able to get his own name off him, not that it was much help since they already knew it, but it was more said than when they were torturing him.  

He took a few steps away from the house and answered the phone.

“Hello?” He said.

“Where the hell is Stiles?” Chris asked angry.

“At school I think why?” Gerard answered.

“Because he’s not at school, I just got a call from them saying he didn’t show up for first period.”

And Gerard mentally kicks himself, because he forgot to call them and give some excuse. “Well, you caught me, I’m out spending time with the boy.”

“Damn it, Gerard!” Chris yelled in frustration. “Why is it your single goal to undermin me in front of my kids every chance you get? Do you want to make me look like a bad father? Do you want to make my own kids stop respecting me? What is it? Because I have no idea! I have no idea why you make my life so miserable.”

“I’m not trying to make your life miserable, I am trying to enter it, to be. It has nothing to do with me that you decided to quit the job that this family has been doing for hundreds of years, that you reject the hunter blood running in you veins, and you disgrace your last name every day you decide not to hunt. I’m sorry that you have decided to be weak, and I don’t know where I failed as a father in making you a good hunter like your sister. But I promise I won’t make the same mistake with Stiles.”

“What? Where is he? Where are you?”

“We are out, doing what I should have already done with him before, he’s late and behind for his age but I will make do. I have let you stall long enough and I have grown tired of watching Stiles fall into a normal life, normal kids are the ones targeted, the sick ones, the wolves think they are helping with they give them the bite and I won’t let that happen to Stiles. If you won’t do everything you can to protect him, then I will.”

“No! I don’t want him to be a hunter! He’s my son and it’s my decision!” Chris yelled.

“I have let you hide behind that line long enough. I’ll make a hunter out of him by dinner. See you then.” Gerard hung up the phone, and then powered it off. “Turn off your phone Kate, soon enough he’s going to realize you’re here too.” Gerard said.

_

Derek could hear Gerard’s entire phone conversation. It confirmed that Chris had no idea Stiles was here. That in mind he raised his ambition to get Stiles the right mind set.

“Your dad wouldn’t want this for you.” Derek said, and Stiles sighed, he was knocked out of his inner thoughts with Derek’s voice.

‘ _innocent until proven guilty_ ’ that was the law, that was justice. Stiles couldn’t do this; he couldn’t be a part of this.

“I- you don’t know him.” Is all Stiles could say, how could he decide who to trust? His grandpa, or this Stranger in front of him. His grandpa was someone Stiles has always trusted. Someone who was there for him when he needed him. He still had that dreamcatcher Gerard gave him over his bed.

Gerard was someone who helped slay the monsters in Stiles’ dreams, he never thought that he slayed one’s in real life too.

“I do know him.” Derek said. “I met him when I was a kid. Right after my family died in this very house.”

Stiles looked Derek in the eyes after that, the green eyes, with a hint of brown shading in from the edge of the pupal. He looked so human… so innocent, not trace of the fangs and red eyes seen before. This isn’t what a monster looked like, chained up silent. Stiles has met evil people. the kids from the foster home who beat him up and made fun of him. Mrs. Green who let it happen. Bullies at school, the asshole Jackson.

Derek didn’t look anything like them. He was strong, and had a sharp jawline, objectively attractive. Green eyes that seemed intense when you stared into him like he was right now. His muscles made it clear he was strong, and he seemed to have this aura that said stay away. But nothing that screamed monster, or even bully.

Stiles tore his eyes away from Derek, and he looked at the basement, wood and concrete, it was apparent what happened to this house, it caught fire, there wasn’t a stink like there usually was after a fire… so it must have been a long time ago.

“This was your house.” Stiles said.

“It is my house.” Derek answered.

“What happened to your family?” Stiles askes, but looking around he could guess, they died here… probably in the fire that destroyed this house.

“They were murdered.” Derek said, and Stiles looked back into his eyes. “By Gerard and Kate.”

 


	4. The First Sign of Disobedience

_“They were murdered.” Derek said, and Stiles looked back into his eyes. “By Gerard and Kate.”_

Those words echoed in his ear over and over again as he walked. When Derek said it Stiles had been stunned. Because he knew what Derek was implying. They were in his house, where Derek’s family supposedly died. IF they were murdered, that means they had to be killed during or before the fire. Either way, Derek said it was Gerard and Kate who were responsible, and that was it; the end of the line for Stiles. He had enough crazy for one day and he was done.

Stiles rushed up the stairs, he needed to get to natural light, to fresh air, his stomach churned, and he felt a little dizzy.

 “I-I can’t do this. I want to go home.” He yelled out, he didn’t know where Kate and Gerard were, but half of the walls in this house were missing. So he was sure they would hear his stomping and yelling from any location.

“Oh come one Bambi.” Kate Started when he reached the outside. “I know it’s a lot, but if you tough it out it will all become easier to handle, I promise.”

“I just need to think… and I don’t want to do it here.” Stiles said shaking his head,

“You should really stay here; you can think in the car if you want.”

“I don’t want to stay here, and if you don’t want to take me home then I will walk.” Stiles said, and immediately started walking away. Kate began to walk after him, but Gerard raised his hand to halt her.

“Let him go. Don’t want to force him and have it backfire.”  So they both stood there and watched Stiles walk off and follow the road, he got smaller and smaller and disappeared into the distance.

**

“Where have you been? What did Gerard do?” Chris asked, the first of a bombardment of questions being shot out in accusation towards Gerard.

Stiles couldn’t even put today’s events into words if he wanted to. It was too crazy; he was still in shock if he was being honest. There was only one sentence he could form, it was a question clear in his mind, something he needed to know. He sat on the stool, facing away from the table and at Chris.

“Dad… are the Argent’s bad people?”

Chris hesitated at that question. He wanted to kill Gerard. He had gone over this a million times, he didn’t want Stiles involved in that life, Allison either. But he was dead set on corrupting Stiles. Chris hadn’t even looked at Stiles when he came in he was so angry. But Stiles was quiet… somehow smaller than his usual vibrant self. He had something weighing on him, Chris could only imagine what Gerard told him.

“Some of them are.” Chris answered honestly. Shit he was a bad person. He’d been living under Gerard’s rule while he murdered, beaten, and ended lives, families, generations. It was all there and he never stopped him. He still didn’t.

Stiles nodded slowly. “I’m going to go to my room… and take a nap.” He stood from the stool and headed for his room.

“Stiles-”

“I can’t talk right now, Dad.” Stiles cut him off. He knew that tone, that sad, worried, inquisitive tone. The one Stiles had heard constantly when he first came to this home and everyone wanted to ask what his dad had done to him in that house. What he liked to eat. If he was feeling sick. There were millions of questions, ones that they asked and others that they were too scared to. Stiles couldn’t handle that right now. Then he retreated to his room before his Chris could say anything else. He locked his door behind him and he sank to the ground against the door.

Werewolves are real.

_Werewolves are real._

**_Werewolves are real._ **

**_ Werewolves are fucking real! _ **

How is that even a sentence in the English language? How can that be something that anyone ever, could in the history of ever say with a straight face? It was almost too much, just teetering on the edge of insanity. Like your brain processing pain, it hurts so bad, and you want it to stop you want your brain to turn its pain receptors and save you the agony. But it doesn’t. It’s not at that point yet. That’s where Stiles is, he’s torturing slowing in insanity, and he wants his brain to cut out, for logic to stop yelling at I’m that everything is wrong here, but it won’t he can’t mute that voice in his head.

He stood up, because he needed to do something other than sit here and feel sorry for his brain. So he sat as is desk and opened his laptop, and looked down at his keyboard, as if it could judge him for what he was about to type. Yesterday he would have had himself admitted into a mental hospital for thinking this, but it’s real. He’d seen it with his own eyes. She he clicked his search bar and typed in one single word. It was just that ninety percent of them were about T.V shows.

Werewolves.

Not surprisingly, there were a lot of searches and websites about werewolves. He ignored most sites and he went straight to lore. Per the website, a person can become a werewolf supposedly by licking the paw print of a wolf in the mud on a rainy day, or something like that.  

Then there were the words again.

_“They were murdered.” Derek said, and Stiles looked back into his eyes. “By Gerard and Kate.”_

If there was a murder, then it would have been in the news somewhere or something right?

Stiles looks it up: Derek, Murder, deaths.

He said pack, so it had to be more than one death, that would get hella news coverage, especially in beacon hills. Yet nothing was coming up. Or a better way to say that would be everything was coming up. Thousands and thousands of results coming up, nothing seeming to be what he was looking for.

He spent the next few hours searching. He needed to make sure he knew what was going on. Because maybe Derek was lying and Gerard and Kate were telling the truth. His family couldn’t be a bunch of bad guys. That would be just too much to handle.

He added Beacon hills to the search, and then it all became clear.

Hale family house fire.

Words like, _Tragedy, poor souls, accident,_ and the one final one, **Suspected arson.**  

After a while Stiles couldn’t look any more. He couldn’t read any more articles, or blogs, he just needed to stop. So he decided to go back into looking at werewolf stuff instead of Derek based searches. He pulls out his history notebook, that was previously only used for paper for passing notes, and doodling bad words about Mr. Harris, and starts taking some serious notes. He takes color coded ones that he usually does right after he takes his Adderall. It’s all neat, organized, and professional.

Werewolves.

What is a Werewolf?

  * (in myth or fiction) a person who changes for periods of time into a wolf, typically when there is a full moon. 
    * Old English- Werewulf
    * Old English- Wer- Man



For fact is true about Werewolves (Derek)

  * They have fangs.
  * Their eyes glow
  * They have/travel in packs
  * Can be killed
  * Growl
  * Are really intimidating
  * And subjectively good looking. -So far, haven’t seen others-



(Stiles doesn’t think about why he wrote that, and just moves on.)

Most likely true about Werewolves

  * May or may not fully shift into a wolf on full moon
  * May or may not actually react to the moon at all 
    * May lose memory on full moon.
    * May not because Derek seems fully aware of werewolf self.



Signs that someone **may** be a werewolf

  * Speed
  * Glowing eyes
  * Growling
  * Probably increased stamina
  * Personality changes
  * Temper issues



Stiles would have continued the list, but Victoria came home and the arguing began. Stiles knew it had to do with him, and Gerard. He wondered if his dad knew, if Victoria did. They probably did. He wouldn’t blame them for not telling him about them, shoot he wouldn’t tell his kids. So Stiles closes his laptop, puts his journal away and covers his ears with his pillow.

He falls asleep like that.

In the morning, there isn’t the usual banter and playfulness in the air like before. That’s what happens when Gerard is in town. He sucks all the life out of the house. Stiles likes to say it’s Chris’ fault for hating Gerard so much, Victoria agrees with him. Allison always defends Chris, and the house becomes divided.

Without all the banter things get done pretty quickly. Everyone is done with breakfast and sent their own ways earlier than usual. Chris has to drive Stiles to the library where he parked his jeep yesterday, and he sighs when he sees a ticket on his windshield.

“Straight to school Stiles. Don’t hang out Gerard unless I say so, I mean it.”

Stiles nods and gets out of the car, and into the jeep. He spares a small wave to his dad then he’s off to school. It wasn’t far from the school, about five minutes. He was there before the bell, which was a good thing. When he pulled into the parking lot he saw Scott and then waved. He parked quickly, and grabbed his bag.

The Werewolf Journal –yes he’s calling it that- fell out and then open, right to the list of what may indicate a werewolf. He picked it up and looked over it again.

_“They are after my pack.”_

Something clicked in Stiles head as he read it. He looked up at Scott, and it was a flood of memories clicking into place. Gerard told him that Derek was turning teenagers, Derek admitted to it too.

“Wait…” He says to himself, he needed to slow everything down, because now it was like his eyes just opened and he was seeing Scott for the first time in years. Scott had gotten bigger, stronger, taller. He was better at Lacrosse- and became the freaking captain. Stiles couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen Scott’s inhaler. He got a girlfriend, he’d graduated from loser team to cool kid.

Some things that could happen with puberty. But asthma doesn’t just go away. Maybe in some real denial Stiles could say Scotts gotten with his breathing techniques. That working out and improving his stamina makes him have less attacks.

 “Stiles?” Scott said, now standing next to the jeep. Stiles was so lost he hadn’t even noticed Scott walking over. But that just made it worse. Even his voice had changed, and Stiles hadn’t noticed. He’d been blind his entire life, and the change… the answer was right in front of his eyes, living and breathing as his best friend.

“I have to go.” Stiles says, turning the key in the ignition. Scott steps back confused, and Stiles doesn’t offer any explanation. Then he’s slamming the Gas pedal and not letting up. He drove to the woods, to that house. He remembered the way, and speeding with all of his might. He came to a swerving stop in front of the house.

To his surprise Gerard and Kate weren’t there, but that was better, he didn’t need more of an audience to his break down.

He stomped into the house, down the stairs and was right there. He looked at the man, boring daggers into him with his eyes. He swallowed and just let the words flow.

“You…” He said with vicious accusation in his voice. “You turned my best friend.” These weren’t questions so he didn’t wait for answers, he didn’t want speaking other than his own at the moment, he wanted to vent, and Derek was going to have to take it. “You made him a werewolf like y-you.” Then his voice began to crack and all of the emotions he has went through balled up in his gut and turned into tears. “He could have died! But you- you bit him… and… and… and he didn’t tell me!” That’s where the betray he felt come in. “My- my best friend since the age of three didn’t tell me that he was a werewolf. H-he didn’t tell me that they were real! He didn’t tell me why he suddenly was great at lacrosse! Why he didn’t need his inhaler. He didn’t tell me that every full moon he runs around like a wild animal in the woods; And it’s your fault! Because I know Scott! And he doesn’t keep secretes from me! No matter what…. I know it…” Stiles said, no use in wiping the tears off his face because they kept falling.

“It is my fault that he didn’t tell you.” Derek admitted calmly, and Stiles looked up at him. “He didn’t tell you because I told him not to. Because it would have put him in danger. You are an Argent. You live under an Argent roof. The Argents that are responsible for making me an orphan. They killed my siblings, my parents, cousins, aunts and uncles. All in one night. They ruined my life, and they hunted me for the rest of it. I didn’t want that to happen to Scott. I didn’t know you. Not well anyway. I just knew your last name, and I couldn’t risk you having information that could lead to the death of Scott.”

“I would never have hurt Scott.” Stiles said, and Derek could hear the truth in his heartbeat, and he could admire that loyalty.

“I’m not just judging you Stiles. But you now know the very thing your family is trying to torture out of me. Once you lead them to him, he will lead them to everyone else.”

There were more. Of course there were. Werewolves traveled in packs. Two does not a pack maketh. It hurts now even more, because he gets it. He’s the enemy. He bares the enemy name and mark. Scotts a good guy, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, this is the first secret he’s ever kept from Stiles. Scott… Scott could never be a bad guy, and now they are on opposite sides of a war that Stiles wasn’t even aware existed. Everything was blurry, not just from the tears, but he felt the room was spinning, it was hard to breath. He felt like headed but also trapped in his own skin, he wanted to scratch rip and tear to free himself from it. He’s knees hurt when they collided with the floor. He wasn’t aware he was falling until he stopped.

“Stiles! Stiles breathe!” Derek said, futility trying to grab Stiles’ attention. “Come on look at me!”

Stiles did, he looked up. He saw the concerned expression written on Derek’s face. Normally the fact that Derek, this werewolf and complete stranger was worried about him might make him feel touched, right now? A worried expression did more harm than good. He wanted to look away, but something made his glare stick. His eyes couldn’t leave Derek’s “Good, good, now listen to me. Breath in, deep, then hold it in for three seconds, then breath all of it out, and hold for three seconds. Over and over okay. Do that for me please.”

Stiles knew the breathing techniques; he’s known them since he was eight. They didn’t always work, but most of the time they did. This felt like one of the times they wouldn’t. He tried. In 1…2…3…4… Pause. Out…1…2…3…4…5…6. Rinse repeat. Deep in, Pause. Deeper out. Stiles didn’t know when it started but Derek was matching the breathing as visibly as he could from where he was tied.

Soon Stiles’ heart was forced to calm from the slower inhale and exhale of oxygen. He felt himself calming down. He eventually sat back instead of his hunched position, and the walls no longer felt like they were crashing in on him. He wasn’t panicked as much as on edge. He could feel himself slowly calming down and he leaned back until he was sitting up against the wall.

“Are you okay now?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah I think so.” Stiles didn’t want to ask why Derek helped him, or why he even cared. He was the enemy, right? Why didn’t Derek shift and scare him even more, maybe wish that Stiles passed out or died or something. Why did he actually seem worried about him? Those were all things Stiles wondered, but the question that came out was:

“What am I supposed to do?” 

“That depends.” Derek said, shrugging slightly.

“On what?” Stiles asked, looking back into his eyes again.

“On whether you want to be like the Argents, or like me.”

“I don’t even know what it means to be like you.” Stiles said shaking his head. The unspoken half of it was that he didn’t even know what it was like to be an Argent. Not anymore. Not that he found out there was a whole world surrounding them that he didn’t know about.

“I care about people. People like me, and ones that are different. My pack, I care about them the most. I will protect them no matter what it takes. So the decision is, do you want to help me, or hunt me?”

Stiles doesn’t want to hunt; he doesn’t want to kill. Not like them, not like that fire Derek says burned down this very house. He suddenly understands why Chris never wanted Gerard around, he suddenly wished that he’d sided with Chris in the past. Maybe then Gerard would have never brought him here, and then he would have gone on thinking that there wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about Scott, or his family. Now all of that was a sad twisted lie.

“I want to help.” Stiles says, seconds after he’s decided it himself. Sitting on the concrete, concrete so cold it makes his bottom feel like it’s itchy. The house that’s a remnant of something sad, dark, and twisted. He doesn’t want to be a part of something like that. When he say’s it, it’s barely above a whisper but Derek can hear it clear as day in the silence of the house.

Stiles doesn’t hear it, but there is a sigh of relief. Not just from the fact that Derek actually will have someone help him, but for a reason behind all of this, the one little fact that hid Derek when he first laid eyes on Stiles. How much he was unbearably unable to keep his eyes off of the teen since he first saw him, and all the other things that tend to come along with that feeling. Not that he’d probably ever tell.

“Then get me out of this please. We need to get out of here now.”

We.

_We._

**_We._ **

The word echoed in Stiles’ head. Something about it warmed his stomach.  Okay, Stiles looked up at the chains holding Derek up and tries to think about how he’s going to get him out. He doesn’t have a key, not that he sees any locks. He reaches for them, and Derek stops him.

“Don’t do that!” Derek yells, Stiles flinches.

“What, why not?”

“There is an electric current going through them, it’s keeping me weak. You’re just going to get shocked messing with them. There’s a box over there, it can turn them off.”

Stiles looked over and saw the box, it was more like a torture device. Considering the situation, it was. He studied it, there were lots of nobs. But most of them weren’t turned on. There were a few switches, but he couldn’t really tell which one he should have been clicking.

He looked at the biggest nob, it was tuned up to ten, so he turned that down and prayed for the best. He turned it all the way down and Derek sighed contently. Stiles looked up?

“All good.”

“Yeah.” Then he stood up straight, and tugged, it took a lot of effort. At least based on the face Derek was making and the grunts and groans. The strain on the chains eventually caused them to snap, and Stiles was more than surprised. He’s seen chains like that, and woah, you shouldn’t be able to break those. Like, you can’t even break bike chains that easily.

Neither of them could see it, but a tiny red light started blinking on and off, setting off alarms in other places. Then also a pop and a silent hissing sound. The door slams up the steps and they both look.

Because there is only one door that actually works or is still on the hinges in this sad excuse for a house, and that’s the one to the basement.

“What the hell was that?” Stiles asks, not because he’s scared or anything.

Really… he’s not scared.

“I don’t know.” Derek carefully begins to walk up the steps and looks at the door. “They must have set it to lock or something if I got out of my chains.”

“Who even prepares that well? There was like no way for you to get out alone.”

“Maybe they don’t trust you as much as you trusted them.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. He doesn’t want to get into that right now.

“Can you try and open it? If there a lock, I can try to find something to pick it. But you should I know, I have next to zero experie-”

Stiles suddenly cuts off as his head feel’s dizzy. He sways a bit. “… um, experience.”

Derek turns back and takes a look at Stiles.

“You okay?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah, I just. I’m tired.” And he sits down. Derek looks around suspiciously, and sniffs at the air. He can’t smell anything unusual in the room. So he uses his other senses. He listens and he can hear a steady hiss, and he immediately knows it’s gas.

It’s not wolfsbane which is why it’s not effecting him. At least not in the way that its effecting Stiles. It will slow Derek down if he stays in here for a while, and it must be very strong if it’s already effecting Stiles this much.

“Hey, Stiles stand up, don’t fall asleep.” Derek yells down, shoving at the door, it feels like steel now. They must have added it when they came into town. Steel isn’t impossible to break, but he’s a little weak from the chains and it’s only a matter of time when the gas starts effecting him. He wonders if that’s before or after Stiles dies.

He slams into the door again and he hears a clanking. Maybe a door hinge? If one’s down, two to go. Stiles could hear Derek telling him not to fall asleep, but it seemed like such a hard task. His hands and legs feel funny, and the room looks like it’s tilting to the left.

But he tries, he really does.

“Stiles? Stiles are you okay?” When Stiles only answers in coughs, Derek looks down at him to see he’s laying down. Not a good sign.  He can’t smell anything, so if it’s gas, it’s good it’s not wolfsbane. Clearly they want Derek alive, this will only weaken him, and that’s after a while of being in here, it’s clearly effecting Stiles though.

He wonders if they thought about that before this. If they thought a human would be helping them, and if it was Stiles. He wouldn’t put it passed them to kill him at first sign of disobedience. It’s the type of person Gerard is.

Derek throws himself against the door again with all of his strength, he hears the second hinge, and sighs in relief. He stands back, and his head begins to feel funny. He staggers, on a step, but shakes it off. He runs at the door again, same strength but double the pain. The hinge fell, along with the door, and Derek. He groans as he hits the floor, and gives himself three seconds to get it together. Then he’s up and he’s walking down the steps.

There looks like there are more steps than there are, he’s slightly seeing double, but he doesn’t let that stop him. Stiles has already stooped coughing and now he’s just lying there. Hopefully he’s just sleeping. Hopefully he’s still breathing.    


	5. Don't Fear The Pain

Kate’s phone beeped with the alert the electricity had been cut from Derek’s cuffs. She’d just started eating breakfast, a cheese omelet with sausage and pancakes. She’d just paid, but now that’s over. She was hungry too. Someone better be dead by the time she gets there.

She didn’t bother calling Gerard, he’d have gotten the message too, and would be on his way too. She left the diner and got into her car checking her wallet. She and Gerard had a bet about who would come save Derek.

Gerard thought it would be Chris since Stiles went home and probably told him. Kate thought it would be one of Derek’s pack members, hopefully more than one. Sadly, they didn’t get to cash in their bet just yet. When they got to the old Hale house, the steel door was broken, and there was no sign of Derek or his accomplice.

“How did he get free? Even with two werewolves that should have taken longer, long enough for the gas to weaken them?” Kate asked. Gerard looked at the steel door and the actual dents from what he could only assume was the indent of a fist. All about the same size. So only one person was punching the door. Which still left the possibility for a human helping him open. He was beginning to get tired of the same old things with these Hales. They are stubborn as hell, and show amazing amounts of strength when faced with death.

“Call the boys. It’s time we cleaned up this town. No more undercover. We hunt on the full moon.”

“But that’s in three days. We have no idea how many there are, and there’s no way we will be rea-”

“I said call the boys. It wasn’t a question, nor a suggestion that warranted opinions.” He scoffed. “You’re beginning to sound like Chris. Get it done.”

Kate opened her phone and sent a message to the other hunters. All of them. If Gerard wanted to go on a crazy un-prepped mission, she wasn’t going in outmanned. Only once has she gone in without knowing the true numbers, and four escaped because of it. She admires perfection in her jobs, and she doesn’t tolerate imperfections.

The reason the Hales have been her source of vengeance these last five years.

-

Thank god! It was all a dream. Stiles felt very warm and comfortable in his bed. So good he feels like he might still be asleep as he flips over to lay on his other side. His pillow has never felt so heavenly. But maybe that’s how you feel when you realize your bad dream was just that. That your best friend isn’t a werewolf and that your grandpa didn’t have a man locked in a basement with gas contraptions hooked up in case of escape. He couldn’t wait to tell Allison; he was sure she’d love a chance to dehumanize Gerard.

“Are you just used to sleeping alone so much? Or are you freezing to death?”

That wasn’t part of a dream. Stiles opened his eyes to come face to face with Derek. Both lying down, on a bed. Stiles sat up and yelled.

“Why are you in my bed!” Stiles say’s flailing away to put more space between them. Derek rolls his eyes, and didn’t answer. Not with his words. He gives this look with his eyebrows that honestly said:

Really?

Stiles look around the room and see’s the brown painted walls, the bay windows facing the back and forest. Then realizes this is not his bed, or room, or house.  His back yard doesn’t look like that. He cut’s the grass at least once a week. It hasn’t grown that high since Thursday.

“Where am I?” Stiles asks confused, and also bummed. It wasn’t a dream; it was all real. His best friend is a werewolf, he saved a werewolf from the basement of an old burned home and almost died. Oh god he almost died! Is he really alive? He can’t remember how he got here. He pinches his arm and when he feels the pain he’s relieved.

“My house, well loft. You were passed out and It wasn’t safe to take you home, so I brought you here.”

“To let me sleep on your bed.”

“Yes.”

“One question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you climb into bed too?”

“Stiles, I have just been tortured under constant electrical pulses going through my body, dictating whether I was shifted or not. All the while standing with my hands above my head, losing blood flow. I wanted to sleep, and it wasn’t about to be on the couch.”

“Okay, fair point. Another question?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you just put me on the couch?”

Derek opens his mouth then closes it when he has nothing to say. He just snatches the blanket from Stiles and lays back down. Stiles sighs and gets out of bed. Which turns out to be a mistake when he falls on the ground immediately after. Derek is up and around to him in seconds.

“You need to take it easy, I don’t know what kind of gas it was, but it’s only been an hour, you need to let it get out of your system a little more before you can just go.”

Derek was helping Stiles back onto the bed when a door slid open and then shut. “Derek where is he?” Scotts voice ran through the loft.

That pissed Stiles off. Like really? Just really? He walks in like he owns the place, and he’s all first name basis with Derek and he’s all comfortable. He’s probably here all the time, text’s Derek constantly and everything. Scott’s such a bad best friend.

Scott walks into the room and pulls Stiles into a hug. Stiles rolls his eyes, not hugging back.

“Get off of me.” Stiles shoved his chest pushing him away. Scott looked at him as if Stiles had slapped him in the face or something, which Stiles wouldn’t put past himself at the moment.

“Stiles… it’s still me, Scott your best friend. I know I’m a werewolf and it’s all new to you but you don’t need to worry. I have been, for a while, and I’m not really any different; we still have movie nights, we still eat together, we still practice all the time-”

“Scott shut up. I’m not mad because you are a werewolf. I’m mad because you _Didn’t tell me_!”

“Oh.” Scott says after looking confused for a second.

“Yeah ‘oh’.  I can’t believe your whole life changed and you didn’t tell me about it. You gained like twenty pounds of pure muscle, you don’t have asthma, you’re good at lacrosse, and you finally got my sister to agree to date you… and you didn’t tell me. I thought we were friends… the kind of friends who told each other everything. _Everything_ Scott.”

“I know but Derek-”

“Yeah I know he told you not to. But guess what? I’m told not to sneak out and go to your house all the time. I was also told to give back the spare key I made for your front door. I’m told not to take you out into the woods in the middle of the night to search for dead bodies. Never stopped me.”  

“I wanted you to know, I planned on telling you eventually. I was thinking of ways to make it safe enough, it was killing me, but I was scared this would tear us apart. I never want something like that to happen. You know the arch enemies are made from once besties. I didn’t want that to be made my life. It would be awkward if you hated me when I came over for movie night, because you know I wouldn’t stop.”

Stiles laughed at that. “Were you really trying to think of ways?”

“Yeah I was… and I came up with one.”

“What?”

“We could turn you, Derek could bite you and we could be werewolf buddies. It might even end this fight between Derek and your family. If one of us is someone they care about they would see it in a different way, inhumane. They would see how much turning doesn’t change a person.”

“Don’t be dumb.” Derek said walking into the room. “They would kill Stiles as soon as he stepped foot into the home if he was a werewolf.”

“They wouldn’t do that to me. They love me.” Stiles scoffed. Derek was a little too into this lifestyle if her really thought they would kill him.

“Stiles, that room was rigged with gas, to kill any human in there.” Derek reminded him.

“They didn’t know it was going to be me. Granp- Gerard wants me to be a hunter too.”

“No, you are right, they didn’t know it was going to be you. They had no idea who it was going to be. It was just if any human had even cared enough about us to set me free, they deserved to die. That’s how they think. Any human! Not werewolf, even if we were a danger, they are willing to kill humans. What do you think they will do to a werewolf in their own home?”

“They wouldn’t kill _me_.” Stiles wasn’t going to disagree, he inhaled that smoke, he still had the effects. But it was different for family. They loved him, no matter how messed up it all was. They would take care of him. Compromise. He didn’t want to be a werewolf. But not because he was scared of his family.

“They have a code Stiles, even your father has it, he may not be a robotic follower to your grandpa, but he doesn’t have an entire basement full of assault rifles and weapons for nothing. He carries weapons legally for hunters. Bullets specific to killing werewolves are littered in your basement. There isn’t enough ignorance in the world to think they would do more than give you a sweet goodbye before they chopped your head off.”

 “Listen! I can understand you not trusting my family, whether you are a werewolf or human, I can’t believe they would hurt me. Not on purpose. So please don’t say it again.”

Derek sighed. “Fine, I will let you be in denial. That’s your decision.” He drops some granola bars on the bed. “Eat these, you need food.”

Stiles picks it up and opens the package, and grimaces. The thing was harder than a rock.

“Ugh, how old are these?” He asks. The wrapper was too faded to tell.

“I don’t know. I don’t really go grocery shopping.” He shrugs.

Stiles put them on the nightstand and stands up. Slowly this time so he doesn’t lose balance. “Thanks, but I have to go home. Surely they called home by know and everyone knows I skipped school today. I should get home before they get worried. Worried punishments are always worse than angry punishments…. I never know why.”

“Okay, I’ll drive you.” Derek offers, just before Scott can.

“Oh no, I have to take my Jeep home or they will be weird about it again. Probably revoke my driving privileges.”

“No, I’ll drive you in your Jeep and then run back home.”

“Run? Do you live nearby? Or are you saying you are going to run a great distance for no reason, when I can drive myself?”

“What you can currently do, is kill yourself, or others on the rode if you get dizzy, and suddenly pass out or lose control of the wheel.”

“But-”

“Stop arguing I have your keys.” Derek says, walking out of the room, grabbing his jacket. Then coming back over, picking Stiles up and hauling him over his shoulder. Stiles laughed, and at the same time held back the urge to throw up at the sudden movement.

“You know; you aren’t showing off your werewolf strength by carrying me. I’m the third lightest in my class, and the other two? One’s short and the other is a vegan, since birth! So not proving anything!”

Derek didn’t comment, but Stiles could almost hear the smile grow on his face. Derek carried him all the way to the jeep, letting Stiles get himself into the jeep, retaining whatever manhood he’d dropped when Derek grabbed him.

“The address is-”

“I already know.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been there a few times. You probably don’t remember me; it was always on official business according to Chris.”

“A lot of people come over for ‘official business’ He gets a lot of check-ins and legal mumbo jumbo because he has so many weapons.”

“Barely ten percent of the time is it about official business. It’s mostly hunters collecting weapons.”

“How would you know?”

“You think I wouldn’t stake out the person shelling out the very weapons that can kill me, and the people he’s handing them out to?”

“Well, honestly you do look the type to need to know everything. Just a word of advice. Unscrew the cork and let it breathe.”

“Is that a sexual thing?”

“What! No! It’s a- What is wrong with you? I’m telling you to chill out, to stop being so uptight. God you need more friends than just Scott.”

“Scott isn’t my friend. He’s just in my pack.”

“Shouldn’t that be the same thing?”

“Maybe. It should be more like family. But I’m not great at that.”

“Family isn’t something that you need to have a skill in, or something. It’s just what it is. If he’s pack, and pack means you are supposed to be family, then it is.”

“Why do you care?” Which is not where Stiles thought the next logical response was, but he can work with anything conversation wise.

“Because Scott is my best friend, and if you two are going to be hanging out all the time, the least you can do is consider him a friend, or at least treat him like what he’s supposed to be.”

“I guess I just lost the chance to practice.”

“Wow. Okay, morbid much?”

“It happens when you are talking to someone who thinks the people who killed my entire family, are still loving, and kind.”

“I didn’t say they were perfect. Aunt Kate is definitely kooky sometimes, but… This is new for me okay? I’ve known them for years and I met you yesterday. I already picked you once. Just one step at a time. Forgive me for wanting to believe my family is anything than I’ve known them to be.”

“I understand that it’s hard. I had to make a decision like that before, and I chose wrong. People got hurt… died. Don’t hold onto fake faces, and nice smiles. It’s only to draw you in before you get caught in the web.”

The car stops and Stiles realizes they are at the house.

“Stiles, I need you to do something. I need you to lie. Don’t tell them about Scott. Don’t tell them you helped me, or that I took you home. Don’t tell them where I live. Say you rode Scotts motorcycle, so you got ice-cream, say you parked in the jeep somewhere and took a nap. You may not believe me, but if they think you know anything, they will assume you know everything. They will not stop, even if you are family.”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak but Derek shushed him and continued.

“Please don’t try to prove me wrong. Just don’t tell them anything.”

“Okay, fine, I won’t.”

They both get out of the car, Derek hands Stiles his keys, there’s a look on his face, like it literally pains him to do so. But Stiles doesn’t say anything about it. There’s nothing more to say really, it’s… it’s a weird situation.

Stiles spares an awkward wave before heading to his door. Derek waits a moment for Stiles to get to the door on his weak wobbly legs, once he does, he heads out in the direction they came. Stiles almost feels back about letting him walk. But the man is stubborn and would probably complain about Stiles complaining.

The door was unlocked, so someone or multiple someone’s were home, deciding on punishments. There was no point in trying to sneak back in, you could head the door from anywhere in the house. Trying to sneak would probably make it worse anyway.

“Stiles? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

She comes down the stairs with the best disappointed look she could muster. She probably practiced it in the mirror.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I was out, wasn’t really feeling school today.”

“You weren’t ‘feeling’ school.” She scoffs, and yeah no, this isn’t worry its anger. Which makes him fearful of that kind of lecture/lesson he’s about to receive. “I’ll revisit this ‘feeling’ later. There are more important things going on. Where is Derek Hale?”

“What?” She knew!? He thought it was an Argent thing, which is still her, but by marriage. He really wasn’t expecting that.

“Where is he? Did he run? Did you meet the pack?”

“Mom-what, no… I.”

“No what? No he didn’t run, or no you didn’t meet the pack?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know where he is… you should check with grandpa...”

“Stiles, don’t lie to me. Look at you, your eyes are red, you’re leaning against the wall for dear life. I know you were the one to break him out. Which means, he took you from the basement, because you clearly weren’t strong enough to leave alone. Where did he take you?”

“Mom…” he shakes his head no. Derek told him to lie, about all of it, and he didn’t know how. She freaking knew. She was asking very specific questions and he didn’t know how to lie his way out of this.

“Fine, you want to lie, then this is all on you.” She grabs his arm and pulls him to the basement, he goes rather easily considering the fast pace makes his head spin, and he isn’t exactly sure what’s going on, either way he wasn’t about to fight his own mother.

“Ow, ow, ow. Mom! I can walk down the steps you don’t need to drag me!”

“Oh can you? I’m not sure if I can trust anything you say. Once you start lying it’s hard to stop.”

They go past all the guns, and go into the back room. Stiles has been in there once or twice, but that was before the complete ban on going down there. It’s an empty room, no furniture, no window. Just four walls and the floor.

“Mom-”

“No Stiles. Don’t bother speaking unless it’s the truth.” She slams the door behind them, and it’s pitch black in the room until she turns on the light. Stiles is very confused, and honestly a little scared. He has been spanked once or twice. He’s kind of getting that vibe times ten right now.

“I know you skipped school, and suddenly Derek goes missing from the Hale house. Did you set him free? They think it was your friend Scott, is he a werewolf?”

“What mom no? Scott? He’s a baby, he is not a werewolf! That’s crazy!”

“Stiles, I will ask you one more time, and then things are going to get ugly. Did you set Derek free?”

“What do you mean by ugly?”

“That’s not a no, so I’m to take it as a yes?”

He goes silent. _Lie, lie, lie._ The words echo in his head, but he can’t bring himself to. She knows. It’s so clear she knows; she just wants him to admit it. He thinks about what Derek said, but what’s the alternative, lie, under this creepy weird vibe he keeps getting. He’s not even allowed in the basement, and here he is, dragged down here, the day after he’s learned his families big secret.

“Yes.” He barely mumbles it out, but in the empty room it comes quite clear. She smiles, and Stiles thinks he’s off the hook. Maybe all she wanted was to know was where Stiles went. She puts her hands on his shoulders, and talks really calm and slow.

“Before we get started, I want you to know, being honest is really important and always will be rewarded. You are a part of this family, and you should be a hunter, it’s the reason you set Derek free today; it’s because you didn’t know better. First rule, never lie to another hunter, or your own kind. We are the only defense from our world and the supernatural world. Lying only creates weakness, weakness is exploited by the supernatural. You haven’t been trained, which is why you are and were weak. So I will train you. You have shot a gun and essentially know how it works. But that isn’t the most important part of being a hunter. The most important part, is never fearing pain.”

Bam. A hit to his face. It was so fast he didn’t see it coming, or maybe it was normal speed and he wasn’t expecting to be punched in the face by his mom. The hit was so hard it knocked him to the ground. Stiles had ever been hit that hard in his life, not even by that bully Jackson. He doesn’t have time to recover or think much more before there comes a swift kick to his stomach…

Was his mother beating him up?

Another kick.

Stiles can taste blood in his mouth. His stomach burns and aches, and stings with every new kick.

“Mo-”

He tries to plead, but the next kick is to his jaw.

“You see baby…”

Kick.

“Why not fearing pain is so important is because…”

Kick.

“You won’t beg for it to stop. You will never give into the wolves; you will be tougher for it. I would teach you all about the reasons you shouldn’t trust wolves, but that’s more Kates area. She’s good with the mind. Gerard is good with order. I’m good with pain.”

 She bends down now, and grabs his wrist, twisting it hard and fast, then there’s a snap. Stiles screams.

“It makes you a better team player.” She says directly in his ear sitting him up. “You see; you will never give your fellow hunters up. That’s what makes us family.”

Stiles tries to stand to get away, she grabs his pressure point on his neck and kicks at his leg painfully, knocking him down again.

“You see, being family is what keeps us human. We have to be strong, we have to dampen our emotions, wash them out. All to save lives. It’s a thankless job and it takes a toll, so we confide and use family to strengthen us. I know this seems cruel, but we have all gone through it. Just… just put your pain away Stiles, put your fear away, then it will stop. Only then.”

She kisses his cheek before he feels a sharp pain in his side. He yells out.

“Ah! Mom!”

“Don’t worry baby, I’m great with knives. I won’t nick anything important. You defiantly won’t bleed out. It’s just going to hurt like hell.”

She grabs his hand and holds the knife just under the fingernail, and Stiles has seen enough movies to know where this is going. He kicks out his legs and slaps the knife out of her head while screaming like someone is trying to murder him, because he’s pretty sure his mother is. Even if she says she isn’t, she’s clearly isn’t.

“You have to go through this, because you did something that will have dangerous effects. You ruined a plan a long time coming. We lost an Alpha! You don’t even understand how hard it is to catch an alpha. That’s why I’m doing this; before you can mess up anything else. You need to understand.”

She stands angry, as if Stiles having the audacity to fight back was a mortal sin, she looks like she’s about to pounce when something else pounces her first. It looks like a blur originally but the it slows when it’s on his mom.

It’s Derek, he’s got her pinned, and she fight’s him. She’s yelling things, like ‘animal’, ‘monster’, ‘abomination’. It’s all between gasps, punches, and kicks. Very hard to make out. Or maybe it’s the sound of Stiles’ heart in his ears. The throbbing pains all over his body. It even hurt to breathe.

Derek roars. Like not howl, but roars. It’s so much more intimidating. He will have to make a note later in the journal.

Derek grabs one of her arms and takes a large bite out of her. At first Stiles thinks he’s about to eat her. But then Stiles remembers Scott said that biting is the way people turn. Wait, Derek’s turning her? Why?

“Derek?” Stiles says, but immediately regrets it. His jaw… oh god. Yelling in pain with adrenaline in your veins really numbs it. At least he thinks that’s what it is. He groans falling back. Derek gets off of her, letting his teeth sink back into his gums and then turns around looking over Stiles. By the look on his face, you’d think Derek was the one in pain.

“Derek- y-y-you.”

 “It’s okay. Don’t try to talk. I’ll get you to a doctor.” He carefully wrapped an arm under Stiles’ knees and the other around his back. But no matter how gentle and slow, it all hurt.


	6. Breathing Techniques

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty uneventful, but i wanted to just get back in the habit of uploading, and not staying stuck on one chapter worried about the word count.

Chris comes home after getting it all out of his system. He’d been having a yelling match with Gerard outside of the cabin they’ve all taken to staying into. It’s the usual place passing hunters stay at when in town. Beacon hills is like a spawn point for supernatural. There’s always something around.

It took a while, and Chris wanted to physically hurt Gerard multiple times, but he kept that down at least. Now he needed to fix whatever the hell kind of mess has started. Stiles knows about hinting and Werewolves, and something about Derek Hale getting free. He didn’t even know they were planning something with the rest of the Hale pack. It was not a good idea.

Peter Hale was psychotic, and loose. If he had any reason to come back to Beacon hills, like his nephew dying, lots of innocents would suffer. Peter is a full shift alpha. Those are ten times harder to kill, partly feral, and on top of that Peter is smart, and sneaky.

Chris wants out of the hunting, but he’d like to know if his family is making enemies here. He still shares the names and the connections. His family would be an easy target for some payback. He didn’t want that.

All reasons why this was so hard.

Stiles’ Jeep was in the driveway, which was weird. He should still be at school. Besides if he did skip again, he wasn’t with Gerard, Chris was just with him. He parked and went inside.

The door was wide open-which wasn’t weird. But the blood on the door handle was.

“Stiles?” Chris called out, worried.

“He’s gone.” Victoria said from the kitchen. Chris calmed, knowing there wasn’t a state of distress in the room, but there was something else. Victoria was in the kitchen, drinking scotch from the bottle.

“Why is their blood on the d-” He stopped when he saw her. Covered in blood. Four claw marks down the side of her face, three more on the shoulder, and some bruising all around. Not to mention blood on her shirt. “What the hell happened?”

“I messed up.” She shrugged, taking a large sip, grimacing at the taste. She lifted up her arm and showed him the bite.

“What did you do?”

_

_It was cold, and the grass was wet. You’d think that’d mean the dirt would be softer, but it was hard as rocks. He tried tossing and turning. It didn’t do much good. He settled on laying face up. It was a little bright out, but the sun was nowhere to be seen, the clouds had lowered and there was a fog everywhere._

_Which really explained the cold. But not the hardness. Stiles sat up to get away from it. It was too uncomfortable to sleep like that; a pile of rocks would be a better choice. He used a tree to help steady himself, he got a splinter from the bark the moment he pressed his weight to it. He hissed at the pain, and once he was up he took a look at it. It was too small to really see it. He wouldn’t know it was there if it wasn’t for the radiating pain coming from the palm of his hand, just beneath the thumb. All he could do was pinch blindly at his skin to try and get a hold of it._

_Which naturally just made it worse._

_“Let me see it.” A voice from behind said. Stiles didn’t even hesitate to turn around and stick out his palm._

_“I’ve got a bug in my skin.” He said. Suddenly he was worried it wasn’t a splinter at all, but a bee trapped, or maybe even a stick bug digging its way in, to make a home and babies. He felt small, helpless, and cold. The fog of clouds had turned darker, instead of a white wet air, it was dark grey._

_“Oh please. It’s just a bit of wood. You have to be more careful if you are going to play outside. Okay?” the woman smiled sweetly._

_“Okay.” Stiles nodded. But he wasn’t playing, he was trying to sleep. Because it hurt, it all hurt, not just his hand, but his entire body managed to ache somewhere. He wanted to sleep the pain away, that sounded nice._

_A small painless pinch and suddenly there was no more ache. The fear slowly faded and he smiled at his hand._

_“See look, it’s just a stick. Bugs don’t like crawling in skin.” She laughs, tickling his sides reassuringly. He laughs too, here is nice, it’s not cold in her arms like it is everywhere else. It’s better here than anywhere else._

_“Who are you?” He asks between a laugh, and her smile fades. Suddenly its cold again as she pulls away, Stiles wants to grab her, and keep her close. Somehow he knows it won’t work. The pain sets in again, and he’s not sure he could move his arms if he wanted to._

_“You have to be more careful if you are going to play with wolves. The weak die first, and I don’t want you here yet.”_

_It gets impossibly darker, so dark Stiles can’t see his hand in front of his face._

_“Wait don’t go!” He calls out, somehow she’s leaving, like she can see clearly in a world of darkness. “It’s cold! I’ll freeze to death! Wait please! I’ll be good! I won’t play with wolves! Please! No! Don’t go!”_

-

“Mom!” Stiles yells jerking up, and regretting it when pain shoots in his side.

“Hey sit back down. Don’t make it worse.”

Suddenly there’s a warm hand on his chest pushing him back into soft sheets. It makes him slowly aware of the fact his shirt is tucked up into his armpits and out of the way, shoving of his check and abdomen. It’s cold in the room, but he’s happy he’s not sleeping on hard dirt. It was a dream, he thinks that line over and over.

_Just a dream._

_Just a dream._

_Just a dream._

There were other things he wishes were dreams. But such is life, his life.

Derek’s sitting at the edge of the bed, and it’s starting to feel familiar in a bad way.

“Did you also sleep in the bed this time?” Derek rolls his eyes at the sad attempt of humor. Sadly, that’s what it is, a cover, to hide his fear, it always helps. He didn’t used to have a person to talk to immediately after his nightmares. It’s kind of nice.

“No, I didn’t.” Derek’s gripping his arm, it’s out of sight, but there’s some blood on it. Stiles doesn’t know which of the two it belongs to.  

“How long was I out for?”

“Not sure. You were in and out a lot. What’s the last thing you remember?” Derek didn’t mention that the in and out wasn’t from pain but a panic attack. Derek could smell fear over the distinct scent of pain and blood.

He hated the smell of panic, it flooded and area, and it was the kind to stick to everything and linger.

“The woods?” Stiles thinks, but he’s not even sure which part is memory or dream. Everything after going down to the basement is hazy. Well, after the whole, knifing incident. It sounds wrong to call it that. Like he’s not taking it seriously, even to himself.

“We ran through there, got here about ten minutes ago. Don’t move too much, Deaton will be here soon to take a look at you.”

“Deaton? Who is Deaton?”

Stiles looked down at himself. Victoria had cut a long line from his hip up the side, above his belly button. It’s bleeding but not a whole lot. She was right, it would hurt like hell but not bleed out. In a way, he and Derek were both right.

They weren’t trying to kill him, but they damn sure made him feel like it.

“A friend.”

“Oh, so you do have friends?”

Derek didn’t give Stiles a response, he went back down to looking at his arm. Maybe it’s awkward, and that’s his go to. Stiles likes rambling, and Derek… He doesn’t know Derek well enough to have his go to in weird silences. But this seems to be consistent since the moment he woke up. Which Stiles was kind of happy about. He wasn’t really interested in conversation; too bad his mouth didn’t know that.

“I bet your happy.”

“Happy?”

“You were right.” He gestures to himself.

“Why would I be happy about this?” Derek looked confused.

“Because you were right.” He repeats shrugging his shoulders. He knows it’s a dumb thing to say, but he feels the need to say something. Anything.

“Stiles I didn’t want to be right, it’s not some… game. There’s no winning or pride in being right. It’s just how it is. I didn’t want this, and I would never be happy that your hurt.”

“Don’t worry, It’s only ego deep. Not life threating.” He smiles bitterly.

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but the sound of a door opening stops him.

“Derek?” Scott calls out.

“In my room!”

Scott and another man can be heard walking across the loft and they come into the room.

“Boss!” Stiles recognizes. It’s Scotts boss from the animal shelter. Stiles has only seen him a few times and he’s never really learned his name but he’d taken to calling him boss.

“Stiles.” Deaton nods. “Sorry to see you again under these circumstances.”   

“Oh, don’t be. It’s like a got a big ass paper cut.”

“From your mom.” Scott adds.

“From my mom.” Stiles repeats, and the werewolves from the room can smell the bitterness rolling off of Stiles, not that it isn’t visibly obvious for Deaton to see.

“Good news is, it’s not deep. But you should worry about infection, and movement. Sitting and standing could sting, and possibly make it worse. Also it is long, even if not deep. Keep it clean. It doesn’t need stiches so I’m just going to clean it and sick a couple of large Band-Aids on it.”

“That’s what I would do,” Stiles smiled.

“Yeah, well, we both don’t have licenses to take care of actual humans.” Deaton pulls alcohol wipes out of his bag, and they sting like hell. Stiles hissed every time it touched his skin. Scott and Derek left the room to talk and let Deaton do his thing.

Once out of the room Deaton spoke.

“So, your mom did this?’

“Yeah.”

“Any reason why?”

“She said she wanted to teach me to deal with pain.”

“Not the best method, I’d start you off with breathing techniques.” Stiles erupted in laughter at that. Deaton managed a smile, which, whoa. His face wasn’t stuck like that? Stiles didn’t think the man was capable. “All jokes aside. Would you like to talk about it?”

“Nope. I’m fine. Maybe a bit shocked, but… it’s all pretty open and shut. Don’t need a psychoanalyses.”

“If you do, give me a call.”

“Sure thing.”

“Alright, I have to go clear some things with Derek, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“See ya, Boss.”

Deaton nods as he leaves, closing the door behind him, and thank god, silence. No one he feels compusled to talk to. It’s just him, and a blanket and a bed. He slides under them after tugging his shirt off the rest of the way, leaving it to the floor. For the second time Stiles found himself in Derek’s insanely comfortable bed.

This time he didn’t find himself ever wanting to leave. He could make a home here, right under these sheets. He pulls the blanket over his head, and curls into a ball, ignoring the pain for a moment. It was dark, the blanket heavy and blocking out the light.

Good.

Dark is always better anyway.

No one can see you in the dark. You’re safe there. No humiliation in the dark, no fear, no pain. It’s safety. Others might not feel that way, but the light is dangerous. Light shines everywhere, you can’t control it. Stiles hates being bare. He wants to be covered, he wants to decide what the light touches. If he can’t, then he can live without it.

Who needs light anyway?

He can’t think of one good thing about the light.

-

“You did what to Stiles?” What she just said couldn’t be true, then again he knows his wife, and it very well could be true. She’s coved in blood and got a bite to prove it.

“I was trying to fix this. Chris, we should have been training them, both of them. If not physically, at least to know what’s out there. Right from wrong.” She’s not ashamed of what she did, despite how it ended. Her reasons are still there; it may not have been the best move. She should have locked the door, asked Stiles if Derek was nearby beforehand. It’s been so long since she hunted or interrogated that she was losing her touch, too bad she won’t live long enough to sharpen it up again.

“Oh so, you what? Carve it into his skin so he will remember easier?”

“I was angry, and desperate! He let him go Chris. The Alpha!”

“Derek Hale is no threat, and you know it. He’s been living peacefully in this town for years.”

“Turning teenagers.”

“What teenagers? Where is your proof.”

“You know the signs; they are all there.”

Chris stops. Arguing is not going to help. Victoria has only a few hours left. Less if Gerard finds her first. She will be formally debriefed and then killed. Chris knows the code, and he knows Victoria would rather die than be a wolf.

But he needs more time. He needs to make things right.

“Jesus Christ. This whole thing is a fucking mess. Where is Stiles now?”

“Derek took him.” She sneers, taking a large drink.

“You don’t think Stiles is…” Chris didn’t even want to consider it. But Derek Hale coming here? Just to save Stiles is a little far-fetched. Even if he wasn’t a threat that didn’t make him an ally.

“No,” she assured. “The knife I used was wolfsbane laced. It had no effect on him.” You know, other than cutting his skin. “However, Derek’s got a nasty burn from it on his arm. That’s not going to heal for a while, even for an alpha.”

Chris grabs his keys. He’s already done compartmentalizing. He’s prepared for this, losing one of them. It might be a little sad he thinks thank god it’s not Allison or Stiles, but he’s a father so what the heck. His first step is to get Stiles away from Derek before he ends up on the wrong side of a war he found out about yesterday.

It’s not going to help that Victoria did what she did, but the fact that she’ll be dead before sundown might be a good motivator to come home.

“I guess you should call Allison home to say your goodbyes. Try not to stab her.”

He walks out, starting his car and heading to Derek’s loft across town.

-

“There really isn’t anything I can do about that. Good news is, that it’s not going to get worse, it’s just going to heal very slowly.” Deaton said, looking the cut over. The skin around it had burned, and the blood kept flowing from it, like it wasn’t going to stop any time soon. That’s the first sign that it wasn’t healing properly. Any normal cut would most likely be a tender scar by now.

But this looked fresh as if I’d just happened.

“But it was Wolfsbane?” Scott asks.

“I’ve seen this once before. It’s takes a lot of work to forge wolfsbane into the iron. Old hunters used to do it with arrows so the wolves wouldn’t be able to survive if it hit any major arteries. Bullets are too small and non-reusable so they aren’t often made.”

“That’s good news.” Scott adds.

“Thanks.” Derek says to Deaton. His arm felt like it was still burning, but it’s not a major pain. He’ll live which is what matters the most.  He pulls his sleeve over it, like getting it out of sight might make the pain less. It kind of works.

He listens to Stiles’ heartbeat in the room, and it’s steady. He’s not talking, which is what Derek’s used to. Whenever he went by the argent house, he was stuffed in his room because of ‘official business’ and no kids allowed yada-yada, or it was really late.

Silent Stiles was what he got to know first. It’s kind of eerie that it takes something bad to get Derek to see it again. Maybe it’s a bad sign.

He can’t decide if he should go in there and check on him or not. His heartbeats fine, Deaton checked his stomach, it’s fine. Right now it seems like Stiles being left alone was a good thing. Time heals all wounds, and maybe with some silence he’ll fall back asleep.

“So, what’s the deal? Stiles can’t go back home now.” Scott say’s tearing through the sound of Stiles’ heart. Which is true, going back home would be a very bad idea. There’s going to be serious tension, especially since Derek knows the code.

For all he knows Victoria’s already killed herself, that’s if Gerard didn’t rush to put the bullet in her head himself.

“I mean, no. But I don’t think he’ll want to anyway.”

“I know, but where’s he going to stay?”

“With you? He is your best friend.”

“No! My mom will allow that for one, maybe two days’ tops. Once she figures out he’s run away, she will send him back, or get the police involved. She’s still friends with Joh- the Sheriff.”

“Then I guess he could stay here.”

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah it’s fine.”  

“Want to tell him now?”

“No, let’s leave him be for a while.” Derek looks over at the door, checking on the heartbeat, same as ever. Scott sits still for exactly thirty seconds before he asks.

“Wanna get pizza?”

Derek rolls his eyes. It’s teenage werewolves, they are always hungry, it’s even worse when you are a bitten wolf. The body is trying to get used to the new effects and then hormones. It’s stinky, and hard on the wallet.

Then again, most wolves turned as teens become great packs, and most likely alphas of their own if they spilt from the group. It’s the reason puberty is the time born wolves start getting their abilities.

He grabs his wallet out of his pocket and hands Scott a twenty.

“Bring some back for Stiles.”

Scott nodded and ran for the door.

“And Scott, make sure it’s more than one slice!”


	7. John Noah Stilinski

  
  
Derek was just about to give up and order pizza instead of waiting for Scott to finally come back, but with perfect timing, he can hear the motorcycle pull up to the parking lot. He sighs trying not to imagine the state of the pizza, however, Scott managed to carry it while riding. But when he walks in it looks mostly intact.

Scott pushes the loft door open, a smile on his face, carrying what smells like an entire box of triple pepperoni pizza and a mountain dew for Stiles. Which Derek knew probably meant Scott ate and the entire box of another pizza and felt guilty for not leaving anything. He rolled his eyes as he stood up and decided not to comment on it.

“Give it to me. I’ll take it to him.”

Scott hesitated at first. Stiles was his best friend; he should be the one giving the pizza after all. But in the end, he gave in. For all, he knows Derek is just worried that he’s going to eat half the pizza while he’s in there with him.

“Fine, but I’m going to be staying here too if Stiles is. It’s not fair, I’ve been in the pack for months, and I’ve never spent the night here.”

“You’ve never been sliced open by your mother.”

“I’m still staying over.” Scott shakes his head. Derek decides to leave it alone and knocks on the door before he comes in.

“Scott got pizza for you.”

“You can put it down; I’ll eat it later,” Stiles says laid on his side, poking at his fingernails.

“You should eat it now. Teenage werewolves are insatiable. They eat anything in eyesight, and I might call a pack meeting soon.”

“Pack meeting?” Stiles looks up, confused.

“It’s just when I talk to everyone, let them know what’s happening and how to proceed when something comes up.”

“Interesting.” He nods, cataloging it in his head. Making sure to remember to add it to his journal later.

Derek waves the box of pizza right in front of Stiles’ face, and he finally gives in, taking it. He opens the box and smiles. Extra sauce and extra pepperoni, exactly how he likes it.

Too bad he didn’t feel like eating. He takes one slice out, just for Derek’s benefit, and places it on top of the now closed box. It sits there, like Stiles and Derek, in silence. Stiles wants to be alone, but he can’t really kick Derek out of his own room, so he sorts of just waits, hoping Derek will leave on his own.

“Are you alright?” Derek asks breaking the silence.

“Yeah."

“You keep saying that.”

“You keep asking.”

Technically Scotts the one who asked before, but it’s the same question, and it’s the same answer. Can’t really expect a different one so soon can you?

“Stiles-” The world may never know what heartfelt thing Derek Hale was about to say. He suddenly stops and looks toward the door. “Stay here.” He tells Stiles and suddenly he’s up, walking out, closing the door behind him.

Stiles almost wants to listen, he planned on staying in this room, in this bed, for a long period of time. He was thinking of never leaving the comfortable sheets. But the sudden change made him curious, so he went to the door, and cracked it open watching.

Derek slid the loft door open to find Chris standing on the other side.

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Don’t play this game, Hale. I’m already at the end of my rope with you.”

“Oh? I have a similar feeling with you at the moment. You’re not welcome here. Not that there should be any confusion, considering you have never been.”

“Great, send Stiles out and I’ll be on my way.”

“Yeah, totally. I’ll give him right back to you. Is Victoria going to finish the job, or is she already…”

Chris steps in to make one powerful swing right at Derek’s face, but Derek steps back, anticipating it. He grabs the attacking arm and uses its own momentum to help Chris’ face get acquainted with the floor. It’s a loud thud Chris’ face makes with the ground. You’d think he’d be there for more than a second but soon he’s up again, this time he’s pulled a gun from his jacket and has it trained right on Derek’s forehead.

Scott comes out from the kitchen and growls and drops his fangs and claws.

“Nice seeing you Scott. You were on my list of suspected turns. Nice to know I still got it, despite what Gerard tells me.”

Stiles decides he can’t stand behind the door anymore.

“I don’t want to go back home,” Stiles says clearing his throat after he realizes how scratchy it was.

“You have to come back home, Stiles.” Shakes his head, it’s all so bad, and he doesn’t even know where to begin. He’d planned to never tell Stiles or Allison about the supernatural, and by the end of the day, they’d both know. There’s no other way to explain to Allison about why Victoria isn’t going to live past tomorrow.

“I don’t really want to be a part of this fight you have going on with Derek’s pack, and whatever else. But I also don’t want to get stabbed again, so I’m going to stay here until you all decide to stop being crazy.”

“There’s no time Stiles.”

“No time for what?”

“Your mom is dying.”

Stiles hesitates a moment, the words echo in his ear, he’s heard the exact same ones from someone else he used to call dad. His heart dropped in his chest all the same. But it’s all just echoes of emotions because it’s not true. Victoria isn’t dying, she can’t be dying.

“You’re lying to get me to come home.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh yeah? What is she dying of? Being a bad parent? Eating too healthy?” Stiles crosses his arms and leans against the wall. He’s proud that he doesn’t wince at the pain in his chest as he does.

“It’s the bite,” Chris said, shooting a glare Derek’s way, and Stiles’ stomach does a little flip because the bite can’t kill can it? It might turn people. That's how it works right? It doesn’t kill. Stiles is thinking, he’s trying to think, and remember if anyone in the last day has told him if the bite can kill and he’s drawing a blank. He’s panicking silently.

Now he’s even more conflicted. Not Just because of a possible lie. But because he’s still angry, at her, at Chris, and Gerard, and even at Allison. If Victoria really is dying, he may just be mad at Derek as well. Which leads to more confusion and indecision, because Derek was saving him, and now it’s all getting messed up. 

He looks to Derek. “Can it really?”

Derek shrugs. “It’s possible for someone to die from the bite. But that's not whats happening to her.”

“Then what’s happening to her?”

“Ask him, it’s his family’s code.” Derek nods to Chris.

“Code?”

“Your mother… is a hunter.” Chris tries to pick his words carefully here. “She’d rather die than become the thing she hunts.”

“So she’s not dying. She’s committing suicide.” Stiles nods slowly. Just like that, he’s numb again. “Well, it’s up to her I guess. I’m not going back there.”

“Stiles you have to say goodbye!” Chris steps forward, and Derek growls softly as a warning. He’s not standing between them physically, but if Stiles has to deny him one more time Derek will gladly do so.

“If she wants a goodbye, she can come over here and give it herself along with an apology for acting like a psychopath. Otherwise, I’m not interested.”

Chris is about to say something and it doesn’t look like it’s anything Stiles wants to hear, so he walks into Derek’s room and slams the door behind him. Which he’s not sure how Derek will feel about that, but in the moment it feels good to do. He pushes the pizza box onto the floor and climbs under the covers and sinks back into his dark space of safety.

“I believe that concludes your business here.”

“I’m not leaving here without him.”

“What are you going to do? Tie him up? Drag him kicking and screaming? Or maybe, knock him over the head and carry him out. All things, that will make him hate you even more.”

“How can you stand there and instigate this? Are you going to let him miss a chance to say goodbye to his mother? What would you have given a chance to say goodbye to yours?” That was too low a blow. Derek’s eyes go red, and his fangs drop.

“You and your family are the exact reason why I don't have mine. Never try and use them to gain sympathy for me ever again, or I will rip your heart right from your chest. Now you can walk out that door, or I can throw you out of it.”

Chris hesitates and Derek’s ready to make good on his promise, but he steps back and leaves before it gets physical. Scott sighs and heads right for Derek's room.

“Stiles?” Scott asks walking around and sitting next to the breathing bump curled under the blanket.

“Yeah?” Stiles’ voice comes out, muffled.

“Are you sure you don't want to go?” If anyone knows how much Stiles counts the Argent’s as a family, it’s Scott. He was around when Claudia died, and Stiles wasn’t really the same person after that. Not until he was with them. While Stiles has every right to be angry, and honestly a little scared to go back there; Victoria dying really may take a big hit out of him. Even if the pain of that loss doesn't register now it might later, and Scott's not sure Stiles can take another big death like this, not with all this new information being given to him right now.

 Stiles tugs the blanket off his head and looks up at the ceiling. There’s a water damage stain that drags across half of it. It reminds him of a tree branch. Eventually, he looks over to Scott. Stiles has already forgotten what he said, and he doesn’t even feel bothered to ask what it was. He turns his eyes back to that water stain. 

“Are there any guns here?”

- 

John Noah Stilinski’s, his life had been a hard one. He grew up a poor farm boy, he had one dream, get out of beacon hills. He wanted to travel the entire world, twice. He wanted to have epic loves and fails like in the movies.

When he was seventeen, he met Claudia. She was working at a bait shop, and he was buying fishing materials for his father. They didn’t get along too well at first, he was what most people would say ‘the other side of the woods’. There were two kinds of people in beacon hills. Those who would do anything to get out, and those who would do anything to stay.

Everyone thought it was the farmers on the other side of the woods who wanted to stay.

Boy were they wrong.  

After visiting that bait shop for weeks, John decided he liked Claudia, she was funny, polite, and had a weird laugh. He asked her to hang out and they became great friends, two years later they were dating. John would share his ideas, telling her of his plans to travel the world.

The night he would remember the most about that time is when she told him that she wanted to come along. That’s the night he decided he was going to marry her.

When they were twenty John started saving up on two accounts, one for a ticket out of this town, and another for a wedding ring.

Then John’s father got sick. It was subtle at first, then it became more, instead of forgetting car keys, he’d forget the names of his children. Instead of forgetting the date, he’d forget the year. Soon he couldn’t be left alone, they had to use one of their accounts to pay for hospital bills.

They decided, the wedding was on, but leaving Beacon Hills was off.

After knowing each other four years, dating for one, engaged for six months, and married for three. Claudia found out she was pregnant.

Money was stressed, but they were happy.

John started putting down roots, working with the sheriff’s department.

Seven months, and four days later, they had a beautiful baby boy. Sadly, John let Claudia name him something unpronounceable to everyone but her. It was fine, he got the Stilinski family nickname. Sucks for him that the boy won’t be able to spell his own name until he’s ten.

When Stiles is three, John’s father has a stroke and dies. The funeral takes a large chunk of their savings. 

When Stiles is five Claudia is diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia. The hospital bills clear out their savings.

Three years later, she dies.

John started drinking, heavily, throws himself into his work. His life is on autopilot. Drink, work, sleep. He forgets himself, how to take care of himself, how to clean, how to cook him or his son a decent meal.

Hell, he forgets his son.

Sadly, when they take Stiles away, there’s no real difference. The house feels just as empty, just a quiet, and he drinks just as hard.

The real wake up call, was a few months later when he’s out on a call of a disturbance in the preserve with the Sheriff. Some kind of dead body. Half of one. Before they can even call backup, secure the crime scene, something not totally human come out of nowhere and kills the Sheriff.

It was big, ugly, and fast. There was one thing that John would never forget, it was the red eyes. That was the first time he came into contact with the supernatural. It certainly wasn’t the last. He meets Derek Hale a few weeks after that, determination to find the thing responsible for killing the Sheriff, John throws himself into the case, and the supernatural world without even knowing it.

It’s not long before he learns of Werewolves and everything else that goes bump in the night. It did, however, take a very long time for him to come to terms with it.

He got his act together after that. Cut back on the drinking, went to meetings, had a schedule for himself and got something close to having an actual life again.  The one thing he was missing, was his son.

He’d never tried to get Stiles back, and it killed him inside.

He checked up on him, asked questions. It wasn’t hard, it was a small town and he’s the sheriff. Stiles was doing well now, and he didn’t want to take him from that. He thought it too little too late.

It’d been a while since he’d heard anything of Stiles, things in town were quiet on the normal Sheriff duties, and supernatural side of things. He’s worried that the quiet had been a prelude to something bigger going on when his phone beeps with Derek’s ringtone. He closes his office doors before answering.

“Hale, please tell me it’s not another Kenima.”

“It’s not.” Derek answers. “This time it’s not anything to do with supernatural- well, not technically.”

“Oh, so I get to fill out an honest report for once? Great. What’s up?”

Derek hesitates before trying to find the words. “It’s Stiles…”


End file.
